Dragonstone
by Charming the Snake 13
Summary: AU, where Stannis doesn't sacrifice people, Dany rises to power, gets into a bloody civil war and escapes from Meereen on Drogon's back while Robert Baratheon is still king and Ned Stark his Hand. But instead of flying east to the Dothraki sea, the wounded dragon flies west to heal himself in the fires of mount Dragonmont on Dragonstone island...
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note:_ In a household with more than one woman there's bound to be trouble. An axiom that Stannis had seen proved countless times. But his wife doesn't really count as a woman and Melisandre isn't his mistress, just a pretty priest of some stupid fire - religion, whom Selyse likes even more than he does. So his household is relatively safe… safe, wistful and depressing. Which, alas, is more than can be said for the realm ruled by his constantly drunk brother Robert.

But when a young woman, who is the epitome of blood, beauty and bravery literally falls from the sky right into Stannis's arms and opens up old wounds of lives lost and friends betrayed… that's when it starts to get interesting, dangerous, scintillating, even heartbreaking… and a bit like being in a pit of vipers…

AU, where Stannis doesn't sacrifice people, Dany rises to power, gets into a bloody civil war and escapes from Meereen on Drogon's back while Robert Baratheon is still king and Ned Stark his Hand. But instead of flying east to the Dothraki sea, the wounded dragon flies west to heal himself in the fires of mount Dragonmont on Dragonstone island and get himself, his mother and many others into big trouble in the process.

On Dragonstone Dany discovers many things including stories about her eldest brother Rhaegar and realizes that king Robert's hatred of Stannis for letting the little Targaryens slip through his fingers wasn't really all that stupid at all…

* * *

The warm sunrays sparkled beautifully on the dark and playfully stormy treacherous waters around Dragonstone Island, the first outpost of Blackwater bay. Racing winds swished through the rocks that covered the slopes of mount Dragonmont, blowing away the pale grey steam that rose above the ancient volcano and sweeping down into the enormous Dragonstone harbor that covered the most part of the southern shore of the island. Their cold, salty air was a welcome contrast to the burning hot rays of the sun that blessed the islanders with the warmth of a long, hot summer. There wasn't a cloud in sight on the brilliantly blue sky and the only thing that spoiled the perfect line of contrast between shades of blue were numerous sales on the horizon. Sales of every shape and form, bringing ships from all over the world in and out of both the civilian and military part of the main harbor.

Ser Davos Seaworth smiled and inhaled deeply as he felt the breath of the winds, the warmth of the sun and the spray of the sea on his face. It was a perfect day to sail and he felt a tender envy for the numerous ships that were leaving the safety of the docks, setting out to unknown destinations in and out of the Narrow sea. He had spent a long time at sea and even after seventeen years of a very good life on land he still missed the ever-changing and yet always constant endless horizon.  
But as much as he would've liked to brave the vast and treacherous waters of the oceans of the world, he would never leave this rocky little island for anything. Being here on Dragonstone and serving its lord was the joy and purpose of Davos's life, and now his older sons' lives as well. And this huge, sound, perfectly organized and constantly busy harbor was just one on the many things lord Stannis Baratheon, Master of Ships and by extension his most loyal friend and advisor could be proud of.

Davos jumped off his horse, threw the reigns to one of his seven guards and commanded them to wait, while he takes a stroll around the harbor and its market. He loved walking around the intricate maze of stalls and small shops, filled to the brim with shouting, laughter and songs, smells of fruit, spices, fish and many other things Davos's senses didn't even care to register.

"Ser Davos!"- called a voice form his right – "What an honor to see you again! Would the honored knight care for some Dornish wine, just in from Sunspear? Or perhaps something even better… some Tyrochi pear brandy?"

"Do not listen to him, good ser" – cried another familiar voice form his left – "It's vinegar he sells, not wine! Would you care to taste some freshly smoked meat or chicken from the Reach? Melts in the mouth."

"Meat form the Reach?!" – came yet another cry – "Why you traitor of Dragonstone! It is fish we eat here! Freshly fried and caught only this morning…"

Davos smiled as he passed the merchants without even stopping to look. The market of Dragonstone harbor was one of the worst in the world when it came to traders' persistence and talent for bargaining, so stopping to even look at something almost inevitably led to buying it as well as a whole lot of other things you didn't need. Even Davos with his vast experience of even larger and more dangerous markets of Lys or Volantis didn't feel too safe here…  
The only person that was exempt from the dreary process of bargaining was Stannis, to whom the merchants never dared to speak unless spoken to. But he was a rare guest of the busy and colorful market and usually visited the blacksmiths or bookstalls only.

"Ah, my dear ser Davos, what a pleasure" – came a rather quiet, silky voice of the textiles merchant – "How fortunate it is for your lady wife that you decided to grace us with your presence today"

"And why is that?" – Davos said, finally yielding to the storm of offers all around him.

"Because a shipment of lace and silks scarves from Lys arrived only two days ago. And they are all so beautiful, I swear to the Lord of Light I nearly went blind just looking at them"

"You and your Lord of Light" – Davos spat contemptuously – "A lot of rubbish the whole thing"

"If you please, dear ser, I'm sure there is no need to insult the Red God anymore than the Seven" – the merchant replied politely – "Many people here, including the lady Selyse herself would thank you for it. And lord Stannis, may the Lord grant him long life, in his wisdom, allows anyone to practice their religion freely"

"Be that as it may" – Davos sighed resignedly. He was a tolerant man by any standards, but the more he saw of the foreign religion brought in by Essos merchants, the more the disliked it and its adepts – "What's all the fuss about those silks then?"

"Yards and yards of absolute perfection, ser Davos" – the merchant smiled unctuously, laying out numerous fabrics of all imaginable colors – "And the scarves… my goodness! Any lysane noblewoman would wear them with pride"

"This one seems rather pretty" – Davos replied, choosing a violet scarf, richly embroided with silver thread – "I'll take it"

"Your taste is exquisite, my lord" – the man bowed - "And I'm sure the good knight with his vast knowledge of the world will agree that twenty golden dragons is a fair price for such beauty"

Davos chuckled at that. Everyone in the seven kingdoms and even beyond knew his story of smuggler turned landed knight and dear friend to the greatest general of Westeross. He was proud of his life and didn't hesitate to confirm any fact of it when necessary, but the impudent merchants seemed to have developed the tale into a form of veiled flattery all in the hopes to get their prices up. Well, if they insisted of having a taste of his "vast knowledge of the world", so be it…

"My dear man, I would have paid you the whole sum had I not the most sincere and genuine concern for your health" – Davos replied affably – "I know you will not sleep at night if I pay more than ten golden dragons"

"Oh dear, oh dear! The great knight is set on bankrupting me and seeing my poor wife and children begging in the streets" – the merchant wailed, taking up the well-known and well – loved game of bargaining – "But seventeen golden dragons might still save the day"

"Twelve!"

"Fifteen!"

"Thirteen and not one gold piece more" – Davos said finally, deciding not to press any harder as the price came down to fairly reasonable and he was getting tired of the man.

"Done!" – the merchant said, clapping his hands together as was custom.

And to think that only seventeen years ago this place was just a deserted beach at the foot of Dragonstone fortress with nothing, but a few fishing boats to show for it, Davos thought proudly as he put the folded fabric into his breast pocket and started his journey back.  
Look at it now! A center of trade, where not just sailors prefer to get their supplies… knights, merchants and smallfolk of the Stormlands, Crownlands and the Eyrie… everyone can be seen here! A useless piece of rock turned great city by sheer genius and hard work.

When Davos finally reached the main pier on the military part of the harbor, he saw a familiar silhouette of the "Fury", flagship of the Royal fleet on the horizon, flying the stag banner. The Master of Ships was finally returning home after spending a month in King's Landing. Stannis was always sailing back and forth between his main base and the Red Keep, where he was obliged to attend the Small council meetings and he rarely came back happy.  
The Master of Ships was almost universally respected and feared by lords and smallfolk of Westeros alike, loved faithfully by his own men, who would walk through the fires of the Seven Hells for him and on friendly terms with the Hands of the king, both old and new. But his family in Kind's Landing and on Dragonstone was a source unending vexation and grief. King Robert, who spent his days drinking, hunting and whoring, despised and feared his brilliant younger brother. Lord Renly, youngest of the Baratheon brothers, who was recently appointed Master of Laws didn't really care for anything except fashion and amusements. And Stannis's wife, the Lady Selyse was an arrogant, bossy and fretful woman, whose ugly temper was matched only by the ugliness of her face. After almost ten years of marriage, she still hadn't fulfilled the duty of any married woman to provide her lord husband with a son and annoyed Stannis constantly with her flair for drama he had little patience for. The only family member the lord of Dargonstone really loved was his only daughter Shireen, a smart and curious, but sickly child, disfigured for life by Greyscale.

A genuinely happy smile graced Davos's face as he saw his lord and dearest friend come down the gangway of the safely docked "Fury" and head towards the small party of Davos's men who were waiting with horses to greet him.

"Good day, my lord?" – Davos asked as Stannis stalked past the bowing knights and sailors hardly acknowledging their presence.

"And what's good about it?!" – the lord of Dragonstone snapped irritably as he jumped into the saddle and sent the horse into a trot.

"King's Landing still not at all pleasant?" – Davos asked with a compassionate smile as he rode close to his lord and master.

"You can say that again, Davos!" – Stannis growled angrily – "We'll talk later!"

"As you wish, my lord" – Davos replied worriedly. He was used to Stannis's quick temper and rather grumpy disposition, but he hadn't seen his friend that angry in a very long time.

The crowds of venders and byers at the market cheered the lord of Dragonstone as his party rode past them, but he took no notice and sent his horse into a gallop as soon as the party reached the rocky serpentine road that led to the fortress.

Castle Dragonstone was the source of fearful legends, spread all over and way beyond the island. Its enormous dark shadow in the shape of a dragon overhung the harbor and neighboring villages like a fierce beast from ancient times, guarding its den. Its high, steep walls made of smooth black stone stood proudly between the craggy slopes of the smoking mount Dragonmont and the treacherous waters of Blackwater bay. For centuries the ancient valyiran citadel and ancestral home to the Targaryens was believed to be unbreachable, until its present lord proved otherwise, sacking the castle in a single awesome attack from the sea. Thus destroying the last Targaryen loyalists and vanishing what remained of the dragons from Westeros.

As soon as he entered the gates of Stone Drum, lord Stannis headed straight to the top of the keep, followed closely by Davos. He stared broodily at his feet as he stalked the dark narrow corridors of the castle ignoring the servants and soldiers who greeted him deferentially. When at long last they reached the Chamber of the Painted Table, Stannis stopped abruptly before the door, threw his cloak to one of the guards and practically slammed the door in Davos's face with a single line

"Not to be disturbed!"

"Yes, my lord" – Davos answered and sighed heavily as he closed the doors.

"What's wrong, ser Davos?" – one of the guards whispered quietly.

"Damned if I know, Tanner" – Davos replied worriedly – "But you'd better make sure he isn't disturbed by anyone, or else…"

Stannis lost all track of time as he paced up and down the Chamber halls for hours, seething with rage and worry. Countless times he sat down and stared at the enormous map of Westeros which was the Pained Table only to spring up again angrily. Finally feeling tired out by pointless exercise, he unbuckled his sword, left it on the table and went out onto a large triangle stone plate that was separated from the chamber by three arches. It served as an unpaled and rather dangerous balcony, but the view it provided to anyone who was brave enough to face the open realm of winds that lay between sea and sky was completely breathtaking. Overlooking the forever busy harbor, the neighboring villages and wild beaches for miles around, it seemed to bring the endless horizon closer.

Stannis sat down onto the cold black plate, that was his favorite place in the whole castle and felt himself slowly calm down as he watched the setting sun paint the sky richly in a million shades of dark red to fire orange to light purple. A cold, but pleasing wind was blowing in from the restless sea, cooling down his burning forehead and leaving a sense of emptiness in his soul. Stannis inhaled deeply the fresh salty air and savored every moment of the peaceful solitude he wished would last forever, when the whole world seemed like a dream and his only reality was the endless union of sea and sky and the playing winds in-between.

He was so lost in the pleasure of being alone, he hardly noticed the door of the chamber being opened carefully by his friend, who peeked in and waited for Stannis to either allow him to come in or send him away.

"My lord?" – Davos called gently when he got tired of Stannis's silence.

"Come in, Davos" – Stannis said reluctantly, getting up and walking slowly back into the chamber.

"Forgive me for disturbing you, my lord, but dinner is being served. Do you wish it brought up here?"

"Not hungry" – Stannis replied as he flopped himself into one of the beautifully carved chairs.

"Forgive my concern, my lord, but I haven't seen you like this in a long while" – Davos asked carefully – "What's happened?"

"Robert happened, that's what" – Stannis grumbled bitterly – "He's pulling the realm into bankruptcy and there's nothing even Ned Stark can do to make him see reason"

"Well, that's not news" – Davos shrugged his shoulders – "He's been doing that for the last seventeen years"

"Yes, and now we've finally reached the point when shit gets real" – Stannis snapped – "The crown is over seven million in debt to Tywin Lannister and the Iron Bank and Robert, who suddenly decided to grace the small council with his presence, demanded that a grand tourney be held in two months to celebrate his name day and honor his victory over the Targaryens"

"Why the victory?" – Davos asked perplexed.

"He seems to think that it would be a good way to remind both Westeros and the Targaryen girl that the Seven Kingdoms are well rid of the Dragon."

"Well, he's right there."

"Of course he is, but we just can't afford it" – Stannis nodded reluctantly – "Not in this crisis anyway. So Ned Stark and I strongly advised him to revoke his plan"

"And?"

"Well, to cut a long story short, the king told the council that if the realm needed drastic measures of economy he suggests to start with stopping all financing of fleets by the crown"

"What?!" – Davos blurted out, refusing to believe his ears.

"Aye, and leave it to the Master of Ships and the respective commanders of the Royal, Lannister and Redwyne fleets to supply all the money" – Stannis chuckled bitterly – "Which wouldn't be a problem, since Tywin Lannister shits gold, the Redwynes are provided for by the Arbor and the Reach and I am doing so bloody well with the trade on my useless little spit of an island. But that's not all he suggested…"

"It is also the king's wish that all shipping and trade taxes be doubled for foreign merchants and increased by a half for westerosi" – Stannis continued, almost enjoying the sight of Davos's eyes growing wider by the second.

"Fuck me!" – Davos huffed, forgetting his manners – "Oh, I beg your pardon, my lord"

"Curse all you want, ser Davos"- Stannis sighed heavily – "That's all I've been doing for the last two days"

"He's trying to do to me what the Mad King did to Tywin Lannister" – Stannis continued musingly – "He raises the taxes, lets the masses groan for a couple of years, then miraculously learns of the people's displeasure, blames me and Ned Stark for allowing it to happen and reduces the taxes again, having collected all the cash and the popularity."

"But how can he risk weakening the Royal fleet with the Targaryen threat rising again in Essos?" – Davos shook his head, still not quite believing this conversation was really happening – "Who knows who the Redwynes will join if the Targaryen invades? Not to mention the ironborns… If that happens… Will the Lannister fleet alone be enough even with you leading it?"

"First of all the Targaryen is in the middle of a bloody civil war in which her victory is doubtful. Even if she does regain control of Slaver's Bay it will be years before she is strong enough to even think of invading Westeros. And second of all, Robert knows I will do anything to keep my fleet well and afloat."

"Forgive me, my lord, I've always had complete faith in you" – Davos said, treading carefully – "But what if you can't? The trade is all very well, but it's not enough… And who knows how it's going to go with all those new taxes…"

"Of course it isn't. If only I had the Stormlands… Well, if I can't solve this problem, then Robert will finally get a good reason for sacking me and exiling me in disgrace… at least until my help is needed again" - Stannis shrugged his shoulders – "He's been dreaming of doing it for a long time. But he won't do it because he knows he needs me. He's known it from the start. From the first day of his rebellion, he's known it. And he hates me for it…"

"So… what are you going to do?" – Davos sighed worriedly, scratching his head in vague hopes that the old method of increasing thought efficiency might actually work.

"Ned Stark has promised to do his best to make Robert see reason before the next council meeting I attend on the next full moon" – Stannis replied musingly – "But if he doesn't… I'll think of something…"

Suddenly they heard raised voices coming from behind the door.

"Oh, damn!" – Stannis cursed under his breath as he recognized the sharp high – pitched screaming of his wife – "What does she want?"

"Lady Selyse and the red priestess are planning a firenight tonight on the beach, your lordship" – Davos replied apprehensively – "And apparently they have a request to make of you"

"What request?" – Stannis groaned, rubbing his temples as he felt the headache that interaction with Selyse usually gave him start a bit earlier than usual.

"They wouldn't say…"

"His lordship gave specific instructions, my lady" – came a muffled guard's voice form behind the door.

"If he can see that blaggard Davos, he can certainly see his own wife!" – shrieked Selyse – "Open the door, man!"

Gathering all his will and patience to help him brave his wife's displeasure, Stannis sighed resignedly and waved to Davos to go open the door.

"Finally!" – Selyse yelled as she stalked through the chamber and stopped right in front of her husband. She was followed closely by lady Melisandre, a beautiful woman in her thirties, who came to Dragonstone almost a year ago to preach the word of the Lord of Light and has been a dear spiritual friend to Stannis's wife ever since.

"What do you want, woman?" – Stannis asked irritably, eyeing Selyse from head to toe – "What's so important that couldn't wait until tomorrow?"

"I wished to welcome you home, my lord" – Selyse answered in an offended tone – "And to invite you to the firenight lady Melisandre and I are holding on the beach tonight for everyone who worships the one true God"

"It's enough that I tolerate your nonsense for the wellbeing of the island and its trade, Selyse" – Stannis said coldly – "It is too much to ask me to join in"

"There will be a big crowd, your lordship" – the beautiful priestess said in a sweet gentle voice – "Merchants and sailors from all over the world, those who visit here for a while and residents alike. Even people who worship other Gods come to see the fire. It would mean so much to them and to us to see you there as well…"

Stannis turned his gaze to the young woman and the prickly ice in his eyes seemed to melt a little. This gorgeous slip of a girl was the main reason he allowed the absurd foreign religion to spread from the beach to the castle. To Stannis, Melisandre of Asshai was like an exquisite work of art that decorated his gloomy and dreary home. To be watched and admired, but never touched or taken seriously. No matter how much she tried to seduce him, he gritted his teeth, restrained his lust and remained a distant observer of both her charms and her religion. All of the priestess's words were completely ridiculous, but her deep, velvety voice was almost musical. He loved to hear it rolling and flowing gently, like a mountain spring when she preached the stupid foreign dogma to all the fools who would listen. Though Stannis strongly suspected, that many of those fools listened to her sermons for the same unholy reasons he did. And a good thing too, since the girl was a cruel and manipulative fanatic and it wouldn't do to allow her to subdue too many men. But her face was a picture of loveliness, her body almost perfectly formed and her cat – like stride a great pleasure to watch. And last, but definitely not least, the woman seemed to possess a truly magical ability to keep Selyse happily off his back, so Stannis let her continue her efforts and kept a sharp eye on both her successes and her splendid womanly curves.

"Did I not make myself clear?!" – Stannis snapped – "Do your firenight if you must, but leave me, my men and my people out of it"

"Very well, but tonight is a blessed night of the new moon, when the light of the Lord descends and grants the wishes of all his true followers and we shall need a sacrifice to make the magic even stronger. A human sacrifice." – Selyse said calmly.

"What?!" – Stannis cried and exchanged bewildered glances with Davos, who was staring equally pop – eyed.

"We were thinking of one of the prisoners awaiting death, my lord" - Melisandre said meekly – "Surely there can be no harm in changing the sentence a bit for the good of the people and of your house?"

"Have you gone completely insane, both of you?!" – Stannis bellowed, springing up from his chair – "No! Never! I will not allow you to practice any of those preposterous barbaric rituals either for the pleasure of the masses or for the so – called good of my house!"

"But if you do this, we will have a son, my lord!" – Selyse cried– "The Lord of Light will lift the curse form my womb, I know he will! The curse your brother and my cousin placed on our union, when they defiled our marriage bed…"

"If it was the curse of stupidity from your head, you know, I might be tempted" – Stannis snorted.

He could've easily added "the curse of ugliness from your face", but that would've been hitting below the belt. As much as the woman annoyed and angered him, he could never say something like that to her. He knew only too well what it was like to be mocked and bullied by older people as a child and she had suffered much worse than he had. Men could get away with being ugly, but women were brought up to believe that they had to be beautiful, or they didn't have anything. And Selyse never even had a prayer…

"You would have me stay barren and yourself without an heir rather than sacrifice the life of a worthless criminal?!" – Selyse screamed at the top of her squeaky voice as she clutched his shoulders and stared with desperate bigotry in her eyes.

"I would have the laws of the realm followed and respected" – Stannis replied sternly – "Stop clutching me, woman"

"But my lord, the magic of the Lord of Light works wonders…" – Melisandre tried to interfere as Selyse reluctantly let go of Stannis's jacket.

"Let me settle this once and for all, dear ladies" – Stannis replied icily, fuming with rage – "If you're so desperate for a human sacrifice, feel free to burn yourselves any time you wish. Hell, I'll even come to the ritual"

"What did you say?!" – Selyse gasped in deep shock.

"And if ever again I hear talk of sacrifices from you or from anyone else… there will be trouble! I promise you that!"

"Davos, tell the men to prepare my horse" – Stannis snapped at his friend who was standing quietly by the wall and trying his best not to giggle.

With that Stannis fastened his sword to his belt and stormed out of the chamber.

"Where are you going?!" – Selyse cried as she ran after him.

"Dragonmont!"

To most islanders the deserted, grey, rocky slopes of mount Dragonmont were a dangerous area that was off limits to anyone who didn't wish to fall to their death, be cursed by dark magic or be burned by some hidden fire – spitting geyser. But to Stannis they were a place of peace and refuge he would always go to whenever he wanted to truly be alone. The only place in the world where he could drop all defenses and relieve his feelings, think and plan quietly or just walk for his own pleasure. The dark, mysterious rocks and caves of the ancient mountain were as familiar to him as the halls of his own castle. He had explored every single one of them over the years and even showed some of the more beautiful ones to Davos, who was the only person ever allowed to come with him on rare occasions. Most of the caves and tunnels were rich in dragonglass that, sadly, was completely useless for anything other than admiring the beauty of its glow in the light of torches. Or better still, the flickering light of fiery geysers that covered the floors of some of the deeper tunnels…

"Do you wish me to accompany you, my lord?" – Davos asked catching up with Stannis.

"No, ser Davos. I need to think. You'd better stay here and keep an eye on the fire – games. I'll be back in the morning."

"Yes, my lord!"

The large twinkling stars that covered the transparent black moonless sky danced before Daenerys's eyes with every flap of Drogon's wings. She had no idea where Drogon was taking her as she had long lost any sense of time or direction. They had been flying for several days and no matter how hard Dany tried to make him turn back, Drogon ignored her and kept flying to somewhere unknown. Drogon had stopped to rest several times along the way, but Dany could feel the wounded dragon getting weaker and his body becoming colder as he continued to bleed fire. He had even begun to lose his balance from time to time and rock high up in the air almost falling to the black watery abyss of the sea below.

Well, at least her 'son' didn't leave his 'mother' in the middle of nowhere, Dany thought fearfully.

They had been flying over the sea for hours and Dany was afraid that the dying dragon wouldn't make it to wherever he planned to go, so they would fall and be forever lost among the waves.  
It would be pretty ironic for her to drown just after finally managing to mount her dragon and surviving an attack of the 'Sons of the Harpy' in the Great Arena of Meereen, Dany thought as Drogon flinched once again. Many of her people would find such an outcome welcome. Even the ones she had freed from the yoke of slavery and believed to be her friends and her children.  
Would she be able to make it back to Slaver's Bay where a bloody civil war she had started was raging and claiming the lives of her friends and enemies every single day? What would happen to her supporters and her dragons if she didn't? What right did she have to call herself queen if she was nowhere to be found when her people needed her?

As Dany stared into the darkness ahead, she suddenly noticed a black patch on the abundantly starred sky. Dany's heart did a backflip as she recognized the dark contours of a mountain and felt Drogon go down slowly. After days of exhausting flight, her mighty dragon had made it safely to their journey's end. At least she hoped it was the end…  
As they flew nearer, Dany began to discern that the mountain was actually the center of what looked like a large rocky island. She could even make out some of the long, black tape of the coastline cut several times by dim, flickering lights of a few villages.  
It was a great comfort to know they wouldn't be alone on this pile of rock, Dany thought feeling a bit of relief. At least she would be able to get some food and shelter, while Drogon is doing whatever he was planning to do.

Suddenly Drogon changed his course and headed around the mountain to the other side.  
Had he been here before? – Dany wondered. It certainly seemed like he knew where he was going… But dragons often find their goals on instinct, so it may have been the first time.  
She smiled curiously as they flew over a city that covered the lower part of the mountain slopes. It had a huge harbor with lots of ships and continued into a brightly lit up beach, full of people holding torches and standing around a large fire. Dany immediately recognized them as worshipers of R'holler or Lord of Light, whose cult was very popular in the Free Cities.

Where could they be, Dany wondered as she watched the huge flames flicker against the darkness. At the beginning of their long and exhausting flight it seemed to her like Drogon was heading west, so the Island could be Lys or Tyroshi…

There's no doubt the islanders knew that dragons were back in the world and that their mother was battling slavery in Meereen. Would the slavers rather help or kill the fearsome beast and its rider when they saw them? Much to Dany's discomfort the later seemed far more likely… Would poor Drogon have enough strength to defend them?  
But perhaps, if Drogon stayed hidden somewhere inside the mountain they wouldn't even notice him, Dany thought hopefully. There's no moon, so the night is dark enough to conceal the silhouette of a dragon high up in the air. Especially, since most of the people of the ground are completely engrossed with their fire – rituals… She would leave Drogon to rest, go down to the city and find a way to send word to Meereen. There were many descendants of Old Valyria in the Free Cities, so she wouldn't be recognized too easily…

Suddenly Dany's blood froze with fear as she realized that Drogon's wings could no longer hold up his weight and that they would crash – land into the rock.

Dany clung to Drogon's back with all her might as his warn out body smashed onto a small clearing on the mountain side, but she wasn't nearly strong enough to hold on. Her heart stopped as she felt herself being thrown over Drogon's head, his sharp horns cutting into her belly and ripping open her right thigh. She managed only to put out her hands in a desperate attempt to break the fall as she hit the rock, but her body was too light and the speed to high. She rolled forward and slid right over the edge of the clearing. Next thing Dany knew, the world began to spin madly before her eyes, dark grey rocks mixed with dark blue sky, blood mixed with dirt and pain mixed with fear…


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note_ : Since this is an AU, I decided to make Dany the same age as she is in series 5 of GOT, which is about 22. The ages of all the other characters are the same as in the first book of ASOIAF. Stannis 35, Davos 39, Shireen 8, Robert 37 etc.

Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy the chapter))  
Any feedback would be appreciated.

* * *

After what could have been a moment or an eternity of unconsciousness, Dany slowly opened her eyes and found herself looking at the crystal clear sky, covered lavishly with huge, shining stars.  
She was lying flat on her back, barely able to breathe and feeling nothing but excruciating, endless pain in every part of her battered body. For a moment Dany couldn't grasp where she was or why, but the pain reminded her at once of Drogon's fall from the sky and her own horrible slide into hell…

Her poor sweet dragon! Was he still lying where they had landed? Was he even alive?

Moving her head very slowly, Dany tried to look around for Drogon, but all she could see were the black silhouettes of rocks blurred against the deep dark sky. She tried to get up, but her head began to spin with each attempt to raise it and pain shot through her body every time she moved a muscle.

Dany felt blood flow slowly out of her wounds and the cold of the rocks spread though her body as she lay motionless where she fell, listening to the sea rumbling somewhere far below and the wind rustling small stones up and down the mountain slopes.  
Although her mind felt blurred with pain and dizziness, Dany was alert enough to register the deep, primeval fear that rose from the depths of her soul. The fear of death and what lay beyond the edge of the unknown, which she would have to face very soon, unless she could somehow find a way to get help.  
But where in the world could she even begin to look?! - Dany's mind screamed as her throat constricted and her eyes filled with tears of pain and dread. Even if Drogon was still alive, he was nowhere to be found. She could hardly breathe let alone get up and climb down the mountain to the beach where she had seen the worshipers of R'holler performing their rituals… Even if she could endure the pain and try to scream at the top of her lungs, there was no one for miles around to hear her… or was there?

Dany's heart began to thump violently against her chest as she heard the muffled sound of careful, but hurried footsteps somewhere further down the slope. She listened intently and felt a wave of relief spread through her body as the sounds assured her that the swift, light and confident motion was that of a human. Feeling almost overwhelmed by sudden joyous hope, Dany gathered all her strength, inhaled through the sharp, almost unbearable pain and groaned "Help!" in high valyrian as loudly as she could.

The sound that came out was week and faint, but it was enough to catch the ear of whoever was climbing up. The footsteps stopped for a moment and then got faster. Encouraged greatly by their approaching sound, Dany gritted her teeth, inhaled as deeply as she could and groaned again.

"Help!"

"Keep calling!" – answered a deep, sonorous male voice. Dany's eyes swelled with tears of agony again as the pain shot through her body with every single movement of her chest. She tried her best to squeak, but almost fainted before any sound came out. For a little while she lay motionless with her eyes half closed trying her hardest to stay awake.

Suddenly she saw a blurred figure jump out from behind the rocks. Dany forced her eyelids to open a little wider and saw a man, standing only a few yards away. For a split second he remained completely still, breathing heavily through a half – opened mouth and stared at her, his eyes wide open with shock. Recovering instantly, he rushed to her side and knelt, muttering curses under his breath.  
Moving swiftly and confidently he ripped open her dress, exposing her torso.

"Don't move!" – the man told her as Dany tried to bend her head and examine herself.

"You're lucky you didn't nick an artery, girl! If you had, you'd be dead by now…" – he grumbled as he tore off a piece of fabric and tied it tightly round her bleeding thigh – "Where does it hurt most?"

"Knee…" – Dany moaned quietly in response closing her eyes again – "And chest…"

She lay still, whimpering with pain, but obeying every command as the man's rough and sure hands examined every part of her body from head to toes.

"Does this hurt?" – he asked, feeling her nape down to the shoulders.

"No…" – Dany muttered, trying to concentrate on her sensations.

"Good… now… turn your head right carefully" – the man said apprehensively – "Feel anything?"

"No…"

"Now turn left"

"Feels fine" – Dany moaned wrinkling her face with the familiar pain in her chest.

"Now try to bend your head very gently. Does it hurt?"

"No… But… I feel a bit dizzy" – Dany muttered quietly.

"I bet you do…" – the man sighed heavily, looking closely at her face and then moving away.

"D'you feel this?" – he asked, stroking her hands and feet with his fingers.

"Yes"

"Good. Can you move your hands and feet?"

"Ouuuch!" – Dany squeaked as she obeyed – "My right wrist hurts… and my ankle… "

"Aye, they're broken" – the man answered matter-of-factly, feeling the bones carefully – "And your left knee joint's dislocated…"

Then he finally left her limbs alone and shifted his attention to her torso.

"Couple of flesh wounds here" – he muttered as he examined her belly – "Does it hurt when I press?"

"Yes… but… only on the outside" – Dany answered feebly.

"Wonder how many ribs you broke.…" – the man said musingly, taking off his doublet and covering her exposed body - "Broken ribs are hell, but I don't think your lunges were punctured, that's something… "

Although she was still dizzy and her injuries hurt badly, Dany somehow felt much better when the leather that still held the warmth of his body covered her cold skin.

"Now, brace yourself, I'm going to slip your calf back into joint"

"How bad will it hurt?" – Dany whimpered meekly.

"Like nothing you've ever felt before" – the man sighed.

Dany closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as she felt the man grab her left ankle and pull it up and forward while pressing his other hand on the knee. The next moment she let out a yell that could make even her dragons blush. The pain lasted for several minutes only, but Dany had never experienced anything so agonizing in her life. Not even when she had her miscarriage. But the pain soon subsided and Dany opened her eyes again.

"It doesn't hurt anymore" – she squeaked with a little relieved smile.

"It will" – the man answered tearing at her dress again and putting a tight bandage on her knee.

"All the luck in the world must've gathered here tonight to save you girl" – he sighed – "A fall from that dragon could've easily been fatal"

"What?!" - Dany gasped, but immediately regretted it. Pain cut through her chest and she felt herself starting to lose consciousness again.

"Save your breath" – he snapped – "I saw him fall and then crawl up the slope into a cave"

So poor Drogon was alive after all, Dany thought happily. She didn't really believe in any Gods, but she hoped with all her heart someone would help her 'son' just like this man had helped her.

"Put your arm around my neck" – he told her, gently but firmly grabbing her waist and her legs.

Dany's head began to turn again as he lifted her up and started walking carefully down the slopes. She should have been worried about who the man was, what he was doing on the deserted slopes and where he was taking her, but Dany was too tired and ill to care. There was nothing she could do about it anyway, not in her present state, so she didn't see any point in fretting. And for some reason, Dany had a strange gut feeling that her savior wouldn't harm her in any way. Although he had obviously guessed who she was and he had seen her dragon, Dany somehow knew she could trust him with that knowledge and with her life. So she dismissed all her thoughts, let her head rest on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Davos… Davos, wake up…" – Stannis called quietly as he crept into his friend's chambers and stood at the foot of his bed.

"My lord?!" – Davos cried, springing up from his sleep.

"Shhh!" – Stannis whispered – "I need you. Get dressed quickly and follow me?"

"What's wrong?" – Davos asked, shaking off his sleep.  
Stannis would never have come to his room in the middle of the night except in great need and that couldn't possibly mean anything good.

"Go down to the castle wharf, get a boat and row as fast as you can to the sleeping dragon"

"The big ugly statue on the edge of the second wild beech from the harbor?" – Davos said worriedly as he slipped on his tunic and breeches.

"Aye, that's the one" – Stannis replied urgently – "Get there as quickly as you can and don't let anyone see you. Bring a warm cloak. I'll meet you there."

"Why?" – Davos asked nervously, fastening his belt and noticing that Stannis himself wasn't wearing his doublet. And that extremely unusual behavior could only mean big trouble.

"I need you to smuggle something into the castle for me" – Stannis answered darkly.

"Pardon?!" – Davos said looking stunned.  
Why on earth would Stannis want him to smuggle something into his own castle?! What was he doing in such secrecy?!

"You heard me!" – Stannis snapped and headed for the door – "Get going, I'll explain everything later!"

"Yes, my lord!" – Davos replied, then grabbed his woolen cloak and followed.

As he closed the door of his chambers, the saw Stannis running noiselessly down the corridor that led to the Dragon's Tail.  
Now his friend was sneaking about the keep?! The Seven protect them, what in the Seven Hells was Stannis up to?!

Stealthy and unseen, like a dark shadow on the wall Davos tiptoed quickly through the long, narrow, serpentine corridors of the Stone Drum. There was no one to see him as all the keep inhabitants had long gone to bed, but he still strained his senses to the limit, trying to detect any sign of movement.

Even though he was wary of all the strange secrecy, Davos couldn't help feeling the long – forgotten joyous excitement of a smuggler on his dangerous out – law mission. It was wonderful to feel his heels burning again as he snuck out of the keep, through the gallery and into the Sea Dragon Tower. The entrance to the wharf was at the very bottom of the huge dark bastion that also contained the rookery, the library, the maester's chambers, the infirmary and several other rooms that were never used since the targaryen days.  
Davos crept down the stairs, carefully opened the huge iron doors that separated the wharf from the tower and snuck in noiselessly. He dropped down and hid behind a row of overturned boats as he crawled quietly past the guards on duty, who were sitting comfortably in front of the fire in the guards' chamber. The door was wide open and Davos could see they were playing cyvasse and paying no attention to the wharf whatsoever. They didn't even bother to land some of the boats, and the water-gate that was opened to receive a shipment of supplies which arrived at the castle in the morning was still open.  
This is disgracefully easy, Davos thought, outraged by the guards' carelessness.  
Making a mental note to snitch on them later, Davos jumped into one of the boats, untied it and rowed slowly out of the wharf.  
The night was warm and the sea peacefully tranquil. A light cold breeze blew in from the south, ruffling the flat – calm of the water, but Davos wasn't fooled by the apparent serenity. Like any experienced sailor, he could already feel a storm brewing in the depth of the sea and the cloudless sky that would probably break out in the morning or around midday.

Once he was sure his little boat was far enough away from the shore, Davos turned her around and headed west. He rowed clear of the castle as quickly as he could and slowed down, when he reached the rocky coastline of the first of a dozen the wild beaches that stretched out for miles, separating the fortress and the city around it from the nearest fishing village. Rowing at a comfortable pace and making good time, Davos wondered what he could possibly find when he reached his final destination. But, hard as he tried, he couldn't think of anything at all. Davos knew Stannis better than most, but sometimes the man was a complete mystery to him. His lord and master had an exceptional mind that even Davos couldn't always understand which enabled him to find the most extraordinary solutions and become the revered and respected general and ruler he was.  
I'll know when I know, Davos finally sighed resining himself to the oars.

Soon enough he saw the huge crooked stone statue of the sleeping dragon and turned his course to the shore. Before long, he was able to make out the silhouette of a horse. He couldn't see Stannis, but he was obviously already waiting for him. However, as soon as the bottom of Davos's boat hit the rocky shore, his friend suddenly climbed down from the rock.

"Did anyone see you?" – Stannis asked as he helped Davos pull the boat out onto the shore.

"No, m'lord" – Davor replied – "It wouldn't have been too difficult to slip out even if the guards were patrolling the wharf, but apparently they don't give a damn about anything. They didn't even close the water gate."

"Sleeping on duty, were they?" – Stannis asked deviously raising an eyebrow.

"No, playing cyvasse" – Davos chuckled.

"I'll see to them after you slip safely back into the Sea Dragon Tower and take your cargo up to the maester" – Stannis replied, starting to climb onto the rocks behind the statue.

"What cargo?" – Davos asked curiously as he followed.

"This!" – Stannis sighed heavily as he pulled Davos up onto a small ledge behind the dragon's back and pointed at a young girl, lying unconscious on the rocks.  
She was small, gracile and shapely with a gloriously beautiful face and long silvery hair. Her moonlight – pale skin was covered in dirt and blood and her white silk volantine - style dress was torn to shreds. There were gashes and bruises all over her body, her left knee and right thigh were bandaged tightly. Her arms and torso were covered with Stannis's leather doublet, but Davos was sure there were other injuries under it.

"Is that… who I think it is?" – Davos asked staring wide – eyed, completely taken aback.

"It is" – Stannis replied grumpily.

"But how the hell…"

"On the back of her dragon that is currently laying somewhere inside the caves of mount Dragonmont"

"Dragon?!" – Davos exclaimed, refusing to believe his ears.

"First Robert and now this…Someone up there has got it in for me" – Stannis chuckled rather resentfully, pointing at the sky.

"I bet it's the Red God" – Davos giggled.

"Did they find something to sacrifice, by the way?" – Stannis asked curiously, kneeling beside Dany.

"No" – smiled Davos – "I tried to suggest throwing a fish or something into the fire, but apparently it would be an insult to the Lord of Light to gift him with something non-human"

"Oh, really?" – Stannis raised his eyebrow scornfully as he lifted her up – "Well… Come on, Davos help me get her down"

"What d'you want to do?!" – Davos asked, jumping off the ledge.

"You'll take the boat and smuggle the Targaryen girl into the Sea Dragon Tower and leave her in Cressen's capable hands" – Stannis replied kneeling down again and lowering Dany gently into Davos's arms – "I'll ride to the castle, alert Cressen and gather all of the men. You'll join us at the armory as soon as you're able"

"The armory?" – Davos asked, clutching the girl firmly as Stannis let go.

"Did I mention there's a fire – breathing dragon in that mountain?" – Stannis grumbled, jumping off the ledge – "Do you seriously think I'm going to let it burn down the whole island when it fancies a snack?"

"We're going to kill a dragon?!" – Davos gasped, dropping his jaw.

"It's dangerous, true enough" – Stannis shrugged his shoulders – "But I think the beast is seriously injured. It didn't land on the mountain, if fell and the girl was thrown off its back."

"Still… It's a suicide mission!"

"Well do you have a better plan?!" – Stannis snapped irritably – "How do you propose to protect all the people on this island and on the mainland too, for that matter, if the beast remains alive and able to fly and kill at will? We can't control it and I seriously doubt that she can either. Otherwise why is she here? Alone, in the middle of enemy territory with a civil war at home on her hands. Give her to me and lay the cloak out in the boat"

"Could be scouting" – Davos said as he placed the girl into Stannis's arms again and ran to his little vessel.

"Could be, but highly unlikely" – Stannis shook his head – "She's can't attack Westeros with a war in Slaver's Bay and no support here. Even if she does somehow manage to take King's Landing, which isn't very likely, she'll need to at least maintain a supply line while fighting off the rest of the realm. And she needs a base to fall back to, should she fail here. None of that is possible with half of the Free Cities raised in revolt. And the other half will not risk welcoming her after what happened in Quarth, Yunkai, Astapor and Meereen. I can't be sure, but I doubt she'd be that stupid or that desperate."

"But why did the dragon take her here?" - Davos said as he returned to his friend's side.

"Probably for the same reasons the Targaryens chose this godsforsaken place when they first came from Valyria" – Stannis replied musingly – "Dragonmont's fire – geysers. Prince Rhaegar once told me they were supposed to have healing powers. That's why both tamed and wild dragons made their layers here for centuries"

"Forgive me, my lord, but why all the secrecy?" – Davos asked bemused – "Why bother with her at all? We could just kill both her and the dragon and be done with it. I'm sure the king would be very grateful…"

"Robert?! Grateful?! Don't be stupid, Davos" – Stannis snorted.

"And the realm would be safe from the Targaryen threat once and for all… "

"I do not murder women and children!"

"I beg pardon, my lord, for my audacity… You're the most honorable man I've ever met, but you're not blindly honorable" – Davos said choosing his words very carefully – "You've never hesitated to do what you thought was right and have always put the good of the realm before any personal feelings. Since when do you…"

"Since it pleases me to do so" – Stannis replied icily with a very dangerous gleam in his eyes – "I've never had reasons to doubt your loyalty, was I wrong?"

"Forgive me, my lord, of course I'm your loyal servant to the bitter end, but… "

"Good! So shut up and do as you're told!"

"Yes, my lord" – Davos sighed heavily.  
Like all the rest of Stannis's men, Davos trusted his judgment even if he couldn't understand the reasons behind it. Because it was proved many times in both peace and war that Stannis had a unique ability to find the right way in places no one else would even think to look and solve almost any problem. Davos would follow Stannis wherever he may lead, but that didn't mean he never doubted or worried. And now he was as worried as he had ever been…

Suddenly he saw the girl shift in Stannis's arms and open her eyes.

"So, you've finally woken up" – Stannis said in high valyrian looking down at her – "Dizzy?"

"A little bit" – Dany replied and looked around still feeling a bit stunned. Suddenly she saw another strange man standing next to them and looked worriedly up at her savior.

"Don't worry about him. He's a friend" – he said calmly – "Do you speak the common tongue, by the way? I'm afraid he doesn't speak high valyrian"

"Yes" – Dany said switching to the common tongue – "What's your name?"

"Doesn't matter" – her savior replied dismissively.

"How can I thank you if I don't have your name?"

"You just did."

"Where're we going?"

"He's going to take you to the maester. I'll meet you there."

"Maester?!" – Dany gasped in shock, immediately grimacing with pain – "Where am I exactly?"

"Where do you think you are?" – the other man asked curiously.

"I… I don't know" – she groaned – "My dragon was… hurt. He just flew here… "

Stannis threw Davos a satisfied I – told – you – so kind of look and then turned his attention back to Dany.

"Your luck ended with your fall, Daenerys Targaryen" – he chuckled with the right corner of his mouth– "Your blasted dragon took you to Dragonstone island and now we're taking you to Dragonstone castle…"

"Dragonstone?!"

Dany was horrified to hear the name of the old valyrian stronghold that had once been her home. The place she was forced to leave as a small five year old child when it was stolen by the usurper's wretched brother who was still ruling it seventeen years later.  
But what in the world possessed Drogon to fly all the way to Westeros, Dany wondered in panic. And then she remembered the stories Viserys had told her about their long lost home. Their ancestors believed that the fire – geysers inside mount Dragonmont possessed the power to heal dragons. Apparently they were right.  
How could she forget about something like that?! She should have known from the start!

Dany felt bile rise to her mouth as she turned away from the men and looked down at the rocks.  
Her fate did have a certain cruel sense of humor, she thought bitterly. For seventeen years she had been praying for home and now her prayers were answered… she was dropped injured and helpless on the island that was governed by no less than her enemy's brother and most likely found by one of his minions, who was probably going to give her up. Well, at least she would get a chance to see King's Landing and spit in the usurper's face before she dies…

"But don't worry, we're not going to sell you out" – her savior continued, as he walked slowly towards the small boat that lay several yards away on the rocky seashore – "No one will know you're here except us and the maester."

"You're not going to… take me to your bastard… master?"– Dany groaned through gritted teeth as he lay her down onto a large piece of thick woolen fabric, covered her up and put his vest back on.

"Master?" – her savior repeated with surprise and the other man giggled silently as they started pushing the boat off the shore.

"The scum that… almost captured me and… my brother…" – Dany replied as hatred mixed with pain in her voice when she felt the boat bump and rock before gliding into the water.

"She means lord Stannis" – the other man laughed deviously as he jumped into the boat and took up the oars.

"Oh… You let me worry about him" – Dany's savior frowned and pushed the boat out to sea.


	3. Chapter 3

The bright stars were disappearing one by one from the grey – blue sky, driven away by the promise of dawn when maester Cressen woke up with a jump from his shallow and unrestful sleep. The old man looked around hastily as if to make sure he was indeed in his own chambers and not some other place he visited in a nightmare and found himself sitting in his favorite armchair in front of the fireplace, fully dressed, with the maester's chain hanging heavily around his neck. The fire had gone out in the night and a fresh breeze was blowing in from the crashing sea below. The old man shivered from the cold it brought in as it swept across the balcony and flew into his chamber through the door Cressen forgot to close.

He must have fallen asleep while waiting for lord Stannis to summon him or come to visit, the maester thought sadly as he looked at the grey ashes covering the fireplace. There was a time, when Stannis would've done so without delay. A time when his dearest boy would seek his company and counsel, when he would tell the maester of his troubles and grief and find solace and wisdom in his tutor's words. But that time was alas long gone. The sad, sullen child Cressen knew since birth and loved better than a son had long since grown into a smart and strong willed man, who nowadays chose his own trustees and counselors and seemed to have little use for the opinions of an old maester.

But love and hope are most tenacious things, Cressen found. And so for years the old man waited every day for his beloved son to call whenever he had need of him. He rarely did.

Yet as much as Cressen missed him, Stannis's silent independence was a wonderful thing, the old man had to remind himself as he wrapped a woolen plaid around his bony, rounded shoulders. His poor lonely boy who had spent most of his childhood and youth shivering in the shadow of his brothers and doing his best to get a second glance form anyone was now not only enjoying the sunlight of power and glory, he radiated it.

How strange life is, Cressen thought shifting to make himself more comfortable in his armchair. Could the dear lord Steffon in his wildest dreams have imagined that his jolly, charming, favorite son Robert, the glorious rebel and ladies' man would end up as a drunken, petty and vindictive fool, a puppet king and a cuckload, unable to even sire himself a lawful heir? And that the dull, solemn little Stannis, a source of constant worry and disappointment to his parents would be hailed across the world as a wise, strong ruler and the greatest battle – general in Westeros?

No… Never… Because, sadly, love is not only tenacious, it is also blind.

But perhaps life isn't strange at all, the old man smiled. Perhaps it is natural for Robert, who was used to having whatever his heart desired just fall into his lap, to break down when the world didn't go his way. Like a dog, whose legs and spine were shattered by the first severe blow of fate because he didn't know how to fall and land. Maybe it was just as natural for Stannis, who had to fight tooth and claw for everything, to be the cat, landing on all fours no matter how far he fell. The cat that walks gracefully through life all on its own…  
Thoughts slowly began to trail away and darkness covered his eyes as the old maester slowly dozed off again, lulled by the warmth of the thick woolen plaid and the monotonous rhythmical rustling of the waves far below. But was suddenly pulled out of his pleasant slumber by a hard, deep and familiar voice.

"What's the matter, old man? Why are you up at this hour?"

There was no warmth or affection in Stannis's tone, but Cressen was overjoyed to hear it all the same. Like many others, he was used to the lord's rough and prickly words and character and learned to accept Stannis' cold grumpiness for what it was – just his way.

"Wakefulness is the curse of the old, my lord" – Cressen smiled as Stannis slipped in and shut the door tightly behind him.

"It is just as well. I'm sorry to disturb you, Cressen, but I need you"

"I'm very pleased to finally hear it" – the maester grumbled with satisfaction – "That doesn't happen often enough these days…"

"You're not as young and strong as you used to be these days" – Stannis snapped, rolling his eyes. He hated Cressen's complaints as much as anyone else's. Of course the old man felt neglected in his lonely tower, but he truly was very old and frail and needed his rest. And all of the castle's needs as far as medicine was concerned were more than adequately met by the surgeons of the Royal fleet. Another fact the old maester was very unhappy about.

"How can I assist you, my lord?" – Cressen asked beginning to get worried as he eyed Stannis apprehensively. He knew only too well that gloomy determined frown that darkened his dear son's brow…

"In a short while, Davos will bring in someone, whom I need you to look after and heal in utmost secrecy" – Stannis replied darkly – "Lock her in one of the old rooms and make sure that no one but you, me and Davos knows she is here, do you understand? Davos and I will assist you should you need any help."

"She?!" – Cressen smiled curiously, raising his eyebrows.  
Could it possibly be that the prudish and faithful Stannis finally decided to allow himself some forbidden joy, he thought jubilantly. Not a very honorable decision, perhaps, but long overdue. Indulging in nocturnal activities only once or twice a year merely for the sake of duty was not at all good for a healthy man in his prime…

"Blast it, old man! You ought to know me better than that!" – Stannis snorted, utterly outraged – "And trust me when I say, that if your patient's whereabouts are discovered by anyone, it will most likely mean death for me and even my family"

"The Seven protect us!" – the old maester cried, throwing up his hands – "Who is it?"

"Daenerys Targaryen"

"I beg your pardon?!"

"Daenerys Targayren" – Stannis grumbled a little louder, annoyed at having to repeat the name twice.

"I heard you the first time, my lord" – Cressen smiled gently – "But what…"

"She fell off her dragon. I found her injured on the slopes of Dragonmont" – Stannis interrupted hurriedly – "Her right thigh is cut open, she has a broken wrist and ankle and I'd say about seven broken ribs. Left knee was dislocated, but I reduced it, hopefully without causing further damage. I checked for internal injuries, seems like nothing's wrong, but she's dizzy and lost consciousness twice"

"I'll see to her, my lord" – Cressen nodded and then added fearfully - "But the dragon… "

"It's sitting in the mountain somewhere" – Stannis replied – "I'm taking the castle garrison into Dragonmont to kill the beast"

"My lord!" – Cressen gasped feeling absolutely horrified by the thought of his lord and master putting himself in such danger.

"There're going to be many casualties, most of them with severe burns. The surgeons are already setting up a field infirmary at the foot of the moutain and they'll need all the medicines you can give them. You will also prepare the castle infirmary to receive some of the critically injured"

"But we only have twenty beds!" – Cressen gasped.

"That's why most will be treated at the field infirmary" – Stannis said crossly – "Can you manage all that?"

"Certainly" – the maester nodded.

"Good" – Stannis snarled, heading for the door. As he opened it he turned around and added – "I don't want anyone within a hundred paces of the Targaryen and I don't care how busy you all are, understood?"

"Yes, my lord!" – the old man whispered as he watched Stannis rush out of his chambers and run down the stairs.

Burns… The word was still ringing in his ears. A small word with a horrifying meaning, that only maesters could fully comprehend. Like any healer in the world Cressen had had his fair share of treating small burns that came frequently after a cook or servant had been careless with fire, but dragonfire meant very extensive burn injuries and that was another matter altogether.

The old man was not trained as a surgeon, so he was not used to seeing such terrible trauma. Only once in his life had Cressen seen extensive burns, when he was a young apprentice at the great Citadel and the memory was still as clear as if it had happened yesterday. One of the small dock houses had caught fire and soon the whole harbor was ablaze. Many good men were burned that day… more than he cared to remember.

No injury is worse than burns that covered a big part of the skin, the old maester thought anxiously. Burns are devious. They kill easily and never completely go away. Burnt once, a man is burnt for life.

How many men would the accursed beast burn today? How many would suffer if the warriors should fail to kill it? Hundreds? Thousands?

How many injured would he have in his care beside the Targaryen girl? The Seven help him, how in the world was he to cope? This was far too much for an old man of almost eighty to handle, Cressen thought desperately.  
The old maester sighed and traipsed himself slowly towards his workroom. He needed to start all preparations right away, but first he had to find a key to at least one of the old targaryen chambers. There was a whole bunch of them he had put away for safe keeping, but couldn't quite remember where…

The intricate maze of ancient tunnels that lay peaceful and forgotten for many years in the deepest bowls of mount Dragonmont was suddenly animated by the light of a couple of dozen torches and the quiet, cautious steps of seventy five knights and soldiers. Silent and wary, the warriors of Dragonstone were following their lord through the legendary secret passage that led from the dungeons into the heart of the old mountain. The other half of the castle garrison, led by ser Davos were to enter the mountain from the outside through one of the numerous caves and meet their comrades in some large cavity, Stannis called the 'geyser – cave'.  
According to the lord of Dragonstone, it was a huge cave deep in the bowls of the mountain, about thirty feet high and fifty feet wide. Its walls were covered with many - colored obsidian that also hung in long stalactites from the top and lay in huge boulders on the floor, which was covered in endless fire – spitting geysers. They erupted in flames so often the cave was always lit up, bright as daylight and extremely dangerous to enter.  
Years ago lord Stannis had found several dragon sculls in that cave and now expected to find the living thing that was supposed to have flown in from across the Narrow sea.  
Although the men followed their leader without question, none of them could quite believe, they were about to face a real dragon. The beasts had been extinct for over a hundred years and most warriors thought the rumors of the three newly hatched Targaryen dragons that came from Essos to be just that – rumors. Fairy – stories, designed to excite and scare the gullible.  
But lord Stannis, not known for his sense of humor, was dead – serious when, less than an hour ago, he suddenly raised an alarm, ordered the whole castle garrison to be armed with heavy bows, crossbows, swords, but wear no armor and follow him and his friend into the mountain, while his naval force was to stand by outside the cave, ready to join the fight if necessary.

Perhaps this was just another drill, most soldiers reasoned. One of the many, frequent and diverse trainings Stannis loved putting his men through. But why would the lord of Dragonstone show them the long – forgotten secret passage and take them into the mountain that was his refuge and folly to all others, the rest replied.  
But whatever they believed, treading lightly and carefully the warriors of Dragonstone castle all walked somewhat reluctantly through the realm of old – world legends, dark magic and hidden fires, which was Dragonmont. It was so still and quiet, that every careful step was audible and every light breath seemed to echo across the passageways. The air in the tunnels was hot and damp and heavy. The obsidian floor and walls glowed and sparkled miraculously in the firelight and illuminated the cavities with different shades of green, yellow, red and purple.

"Step very lightly" – Stannis had warned his men before they left the familiar stone corridors of the dungeons to enter the unknown – "The passage is as deadly as it is beautiful. The floor is covered with sleeping geysers that wake up and spit fire if you disturb them. And whatever you do, don't touch the walls. The obsidian is sharp as a razor"

Suddenly the thick, sinister silence that hung above the ancient passages was shattered by a horrific thundering roar that rumbled through the mountain. It was followed immediately by bloodcurdling screams that echoed in every nook and cranny of the ancient tunnels.  
The men froze in their tracks as they felt a wave of burning hot air rush through their tunnel and heard the very walls around them bray of fear and death.  
Their comrades had found what they were all looking for…

"Seven Hells!" – Stannis shouted snapping momentarily out the stupor and sprinted down the passageway, throwing caution to the wind. His men followed closely. The disturbed geysers spat fire at them as they ran, setting some unlucky soldiers ablaze, but Stannis took no notice of his losses. Swift and light as a shadowcat he ran through the caves, completely unharmed by the springing flames. The air seemed to get hotter and the screams louder with every step.  
In a few minutes the party reached the entrance to the cave. It was filled to the brim with raging flames black as the darkest night with flashes of red. Stannis and his men darted for cover behind the nearest obsidian boulders that burned with bright cold flames of all possible colors as dragonfire cracked and thundered all around them, swallowing everything it could reach. Davos and his men were on the other side of the cave hiding everywhere they could, blocking the Dragon's way out and showering him with arrows. However, most of them were already lying on the floor as charcoaled corpses.  
The fire soon died down and Stannis's men peeked cautiously out of their hiding places. Sparkling obsidian light shone brightly from every corner of the vast cave, allowing them to see their foe clearly.

Though deadly and fierce, the dragon was marvelously beautiful! Its body was long and mighty, but at the same time slender and elegant. Most of its scales were black, but the horns and spinal plates were blood red. Its graceful muzzle was twisted into a mask of ferocity, baring long ivory teeth. The dragon's eyes burned like two deadly red fires. Its wings were spread aggressively stretching almost twenty feet from tip-to-tip.  
The dragon's hide was flecked with glowing silvery lines, some short and straight, some long and winding, which Stannis suddenly realized to be the beast's blood. It was flowing out of the its wounds and dripping off its scales to the floor. The silvery fire turned into a stinking black liquid, thick as treacle as soon as it hit the ground and the cave floor was completely covered with it.  
Every part of the poor beast's body was pierced with arrows and cuts, big and small, some partly healed, but most new. The dragon was still very young and its scales were soft enough for some weapons, such as crossbow arrows to get through it. And the long obsidian stalactites cut into its hide cruelly when the dragon was careless enough to touch them.

"Aim for the eyes!" – Stannis shouted as he sprang to his feet and held up his crossbow – "Fire!"

A shower of arrows flew at the dragon's muzzle. Most of them bounced back, but some hit him. The beast roared with pain, sending torrents of black and red flame at his attackers. Stannis barely managed to dodge out of the way and take cover behind his rock as the deadly flames consumed most of his men. Many fell dead to the floor, burned to a crisp. Some had merely lost consciousness from the heat and unless they were carried out quickly, they would soon be dead too.

"Fire!" – Davos's voice echoed through the cave as another bunch of arrows was launched at the beast, followed by another roar and another explosion of black flames.

Dizzy from lack of air, his eyes blurred with sweat from the unbearable heat, Stannis stood up, aimed and fired his crossbow arrows with every chance he got. His few remaining men did the same, praying they would destroy the beast before its flames consumed them all.  
Suddenly one of the arrows reached the fiery slip of the dragon's eye and extinguished its flame. A stunning roar exploded from the dragon's maw. Its body squirmed and spasmed as the dying beast screamed in pain and fury, throwing flames at his enemies with his last breath and slashing its huge tail. Like any true warrior, the dragon didn't intend to leave this world alone.

Darting away from a mighty lash of the dragon's tail, Stannis all of a sudden felt but his foot slip on the thick black blood. The last thing he remembered was falling onto the filthy floor and seeing black flames consume the world around him in one final fierce stroke.

When he opened his eyes Stannis found himself lying comfortably on soft, thick, green grass under a huge weirwood. The sunrays were glittering through its thick white branches and a warm summer breeze was rustling its blood - red leaves. The air was filled with the scent of a million herbs and flowers, mixed with sea – salt and the cheerful voices of chirping birds that made their nests in the thick spreading crown of the ancient trees.

Stannis heart leaped with joy as he recognized his surroundings. He was at the small godswood at Storm's End. The remote and secluded corner of the old castle that was his favorite place in the world. The one he thought of first when he remembered his home.  
Stannis loved it ever since he was a very small child. An emotion he inherited from his grandmother the princess Rhaelle, who used to take her favorite grandson to the silent solitude of the weirtrees and read him books, tell him stories or play with him. Later when Rhaelle had died, Stannis continued to come to the godswood by himself and was always to be found sitting high up in the huge weirwood trees, reading or thinking or just lying on the grass, lazing away in their shade. He came to regard the weirtrees as his oldest and dearest friends, who knew his secrets and bore witness to the happiest and saddest moments of his life. Even during the long and hard year of siege, he would often come to the godswood. Not to pray, never that. To rest and sleep. As if the old trees could give him strength and courage, when he felt desperate and at the end of his tether…

"Are you sleeping, cousin? Or are you in hiding again?" – came a light, melodious, gentle voice Stannis knew only too well and would have recognized out of a million others – "You really ought to get up, it is too pretty a day to be wasted like this"

Stannis looked up and saw a handsome young man sitting next to him on the grass. He was looking down at his cousin like he always did - with a tender smile on his lips and warm affection in his huge, thoughtful, sad dark purple eyes.

"I would love for us to go riding together. The grounds around Storm's End are so beautiful" – he continued – "Or if you prefer, we could stay here. I know you hate songs and poetry, but I want to sing my new song for you. For no one criticizes me as honestly as you do…"

His long silver hair was soaking wet and falling down onto his pale, beautiful face. He was wearing a suit of black armor and a long dark red silk cloak. His breastplate was smashed in and a small streak of blood, that was strangely not red, but silver was flowing out of the wound. It turned black as it dripped onto the grass.

"Rhaegar…" – Stannis said hoarsely as his chest tightened with yearning and regret.

Suddenly Stannis felt a sharp slap on his right cheek. The godswood and Rhaegar's face melted quickly, turning into a bright blue sky, lit up with early morning sun and an anxious surgeon kneeling over him. Davos's face was also hovering over his own. It was covered with dirt and there were a few minor scratches and burns on his cheeks and forehead, but otherwise his friend seemed to be quite well.

"My lord?" – the surgeon called – "My lord, can you hear me?"

"Aye, I hear you" – Stannis murmured, squinting from the bright light and the throbbing pain in his head – "I'm fine"

"Thank the Seven!" – Davos sighed with relief, helping Stannis sit up.

"Take it easy for a while" – the surgeon said as he moved away from Stannis on to his next patient.

"Is it dead?" – Stannis asked as he looked around.

They were sitting just outside the cave Davos's party came through a few hours ago. About twenty injured men were lying on the cold grey rocks, three surgeons were busy fussing over them and the sailors were carrying more injured out of the cave.

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if it wasn't" – Davos chuckled.

"How many dead?" – Stannis asked gloomily as he watched two sailors carry a severely burned soldier down the slopes to the field infirmary.

"Eighty seven" – Davos sighed heavily – "Another twenty eight won't last the day."

"Thirty five survivors?!" – Stannis gasped. He had anticipated heavy losses, but not quite as bad as that!

"Thirty five at best" – Davos shook his head – "Ten lads've been burned pretty badly. The surgeons say they're in no danger, but their military career is over for good. The rest of us just got lucky I guess"

"Seven bloody hells!" – Stannis gasped rubbing his forehead with his hand – "And that dragon was young and dying to begin with!"

"Gives you a whole new appreciation for Balerion the Dread" – Davos smiled feebly – "And those who couldn't defeat his fire"

"Yeah, you can say that again!" – Stannis snorted – "Bring the beast up as well. We're going to need it"

"What for?!" – Davos asked surprised.

"Just do as I say" – Stannis said tiredly. He really didn't want to explain anything right now. He was feeling completely tired out, as if all his strength had been sucked away. And he could swear he still felt Rhaegar's kind, melancholy eyes watching him…

Old maester Cressen's hands trembled uncontrollably as he was trying to tidy up his workroom after scouring it for all the ointments, powders and potions he could think of as he prepared himself and the infirmaries for the rush they were about to face. He was feeling dizzy from the bustle that filled the usually quiet and peaceful Sea Dragon Tower with servants scurrying back and forth, taking medicines and yards and yards of clean cloth down to the field infirmary. The surgeons sent word to the old maester that the castle infirmary would not be needed after all as there were a lot fewer injured and more dead than anticipated. They saw no point in taking the dying up to the castle and the survivors would be treated in the field and sent home shortly.  
Even though the news of so many deaths grieved the old man greatly, he couldn't help feeling relieved that he wouldn't have to witness the terrible process of the burns slowly consuming the lives of the poor victims.  
At first the injured would be fairly well under the circumstances. They would talk, think, breathe and feel little pain if the burns were bad enough. But a day or two later the swelling would start. The victim's body would grow to double the size it was and become neigh unrecognizable. And the poor wretch would suffocate and die. And even if he managed to somehow survive, his flesh would rot and fester. Very few men survived burns and even then they wished they hadn't as were left disfigured for life…  
The old maester shrugged as he remembered the burns he had seen in his youth and thanked the Gods he was sent to be the maester of a keep and not the surgeon of an army. Especially now, that he was week and slow and could only handle one patient at a time… Which reminded him to look in on the young Targaryen girl, who was locked away safely in one of the old rooms, sleeping peacefully after drinking a large dose of the 'Milk of the poppy'.

After at long last arranging all the pots and bottles to his satisfaction, maester Cressen took a small bottle of dark green liquid and went slowly out of his chamber, cursing each and every step of the long, narrow staircase. Looking around his finally empty tower he cautiously made his way to his patient's room. He opened the door quietly, entered it as quickly as he could and locked it behind him.  
To his surprise, the girl was no longer asleep. She was lying wide awake, sniffing and sobbing quietly as huge tears ran down her cheeks.

"Why, child!" – the old man gasped – "What on earth is the matter? Are you in pain?"

That couldn't possibly be true, he thought as he eyed his patient apprehensively. He had administered a large dose of 'Milk of the poppy', that couldn't have worn off yet…

"No" – she sighed heavily, wiping her eyes with her good hand – "I'm crying for my poor dragon. I know he's dead"

"Yes, he is" – the maester nodded with a bit of surprise.

"I saw him die in my dream… And his death was terrible" – the girl said mournfully.

"I'm sorry for you, child, but it had to be done. Many good men died an even more terrible death because of him. There is nothing worse than being burned…" – the maester replied softly – "How many more would have died, had he been set free"

Danny didn't say anything. As hurt and angry as she was, she knew the old man was right. She had to chain up her Rhaegel and Viserion for the same reason the soldiers had killed poor Drogon. Dany remembered only too well the charred corpse of a little girl laid before her on the steps of the throne room in Meereen. She couldn't control her dragons and couldn't keep them out of harm's way… So every death they caused was just as much her fault as it was theirs. Even poor Drogon's…

"Come, my dear" – the old man said gently as he sat down beside her and poured her a small glass of wine, adding the contents of a small bottle he took out of his pocket – "Drink this. It will calm you down and help you sleep. You need plenty of rest to get better. Everything will be fine…"

With that he brought the cup close to her lips and held it while she drank the wine. It tasted strong and spicy from the potion and Dany soon felt a nice, soothing warmth spread from her stomach. The wine and the gentle old men's king words soon relaxed her body and somewhat calmed her spirit. Soon she shifted comfortably in her soft, warm bed, her eyes were heavy with sleep again.

"That's better" – Cressen smiled and petted her hand before getting up heavily from his chair – "Sleep now, I will come back soon"

"What about the man who found me?" – Dany asked suddenly as the old maester unlocked the door – "Do you know anything about him?"

"Of course. I know him very well…" – Cressen replied, looking puzzled.

"No, I mean… he was one of the soldiers who killed my dragon…"

"Yes he was" – the maester nodded calmly

"Is he alive?" – Dany asked with a note of worry in her voice – "I saw him in my dream… he fell…"

"Alive and well" – the old man smiled – "He is a great warrior, you know…"

"And the other one? The one who brought me here?"

"He is alive and well too"

"Is he a great warrior also?" – Dany smiled curiously.

"I'm afraid not" – Cressen smiled back – "His talents lie elsewhere. Now go to sleep girl. You are far too inquisitive"


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note:_ Although I believe the ASOIAF books are infinitely better than the GOT show, I fell completely in love with Kerry Ingram's portrayal of Shireen as a sweet and feisty little geek, so I was thinking of her when I was writing this chapter))

Hope you like it and any feedback would be much appreciated

* * *

Dany was woken up by the smell of grilled meat and freshly cooked bread that struck a mighty blow to her nose and stomach. She hadn't eaten since she left Meereen and the sweet aroma of herb flavored lamb mixed with mushrooms, onions and fire peppers made her realize just how hungry she really was.  
Dany inhaled deeply, her mouth watering and tried to sit up, but the numerous bandages made it rather difficult to move.

"Take it easy" – she heard her savior's voice come from the other side of the room – "Be careful with the plasters, they're not fully hardened yet"

"Are you waiting on me as well?" – Dany smiled, as she watched him lock the door with one hand while holding the bowl of food with the other.

"My friend and I are going to do a lot more than just wait on you, girl" – he hemmed – "At least until you're able to move around on your own. The old maester's not strong enough to move even a light little thing like you, let alone lift you up"

"He came just after dawn this morning and promised to visit me again today" – Dany replied, blushing deeply as she realized what exactly the man meant – "What time is it?"

"Past midday. He's an old man, he'll come when he wakes up" – the man shrugged his shoulders – "Who knows when that will be"

"Well then I suppose I should be glad that my poor dragon you murdered so cruelly didn't kill the two of you" – she hissed.

"Poor dragon?!" – he snorted, putting the bowl on her bed side table next to the jug of wine left by the old maester – "That thing killed about a hundred men with its fire. And that's the least damage it could've done. How do you know it's dead? The maester told you?"

"No. I saw him die in my dreams" – Dany replied, holding on to her savior's arm as he moved her up to make her sit up more comfortably – "I've been magically connected to my dragons ever since they were hatched"

"What good is a magical connection if you can't control them?" – he asked, sitting down in the maester's chair beside Dany's bed – "And don't bother denying it"

"I wasn't going to" – Dany answered, feeling disquieted by the fact that she knew so little about the man who knew so much about her – "But I will be able to once they're trained"

"How do you keep them from burning down the whole of Slaver's Bay if they're not trained yet?" – he said deviously – "Lock them up?"

Dany didn't answer. Instead, she picked up her fork with her good hand and began stuffing her mouth with bread and meat. The bread crumb was soft and fragrant with a crunchy crust and the stew felt tepid, but no less delicious.

"I see" – the man said with a contented little smile – "How are you going to fight off your enemies without the dragons?"

"You ask too many questions" – Dany muttered with her mouth full.

"I'm a curious man" – he said and poured two cups of wine.

"You do know there're medicinal herbs in there?" – Dany asked, taking a sip.

"I like spicy wine" – the man replied, reclining comfortably in his chair.

"What about your master?" – Dany asked calmly as she sent a mushroom and a couple of peppers into her mouth – "Does he like spicy wine?"

"Maybe" – her savior shrugged his shoulders.

"Is that why he sent you to lead his men against my dragon?" - Dany asked mischievously – "Too fat and drunk to do it himself, just like his brother?"

"He is nothing like his brother" – the man frowned - "My friend and I led the party because we are the only ones who know our way inside the mountain tunnels"

"Oh, so he's not a drunk, but a coward?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Not knowing the way is no excuse for abandoning his men. Or does the word 'guide' mean nothing to either of you?" – Dany huffed contemptuously – "But I suppose I should expect no less from a man who is too cowardly to fight in his own battles"

"And who told you my master is too cowardly to fight his battles?"

"Ser Barristan Selmy did" – Dany said sipping her wine contentedly.

"Oh, so Selmy's with you? I thought as much" – her savior huffed irritably – "He calls my lord a coward, does he? Selmy's a knight of great courage and nobility, the only true knight left in the world after Ned Stark wiped out Dayne, Whent and Hightower, but the old man's sword is sharper than his wit."

"The old man's wit is sharper than yours!" – Dany replied defensively, inwardly cursing her volubility – "And no, he doesn't call your precious master a coward. It is I who do so"

"Why?"

"Because he rarely fights in the battles he directs. It's easy to just watch and tell others how they should die"

"Commanding from the rear has nothing to do with cowardice, you little idiot" – the man chuckled – "If a general is to be successful, he has to be in a position to best view, command and control his regiments. Only fools lead from the front. True, the leader's presence is sometimes required at the front lines, but that's a different matter…"

"I know that!" – Dany interrupted angrily – "But I still think he's a coward!"

"Why?"

"Because I want to!" – Dany said stubbornly.

"Female logic! You just can't beat it, can you?" – the man sighed.

"There's nothing wrong with female logic" - Dany replied, pricking an onion - "He serves the usurper, he almost captured me and my brother and drove us from our home, so I'm entitled to hate him. What's so illogical about that?!"

The man lifted his hands in mock surrender.

"And what does Selmy say about my master?" – he asked after a pause.

"As a matter of fact ser Barristan speaks very highly of him. Says he's one of the greatest battle – commanders he had ever known" – Dany said reluctantly – "But he also calls the usurper a 'good knight'"

"Well, Selmy's a good man. Just and noble. Our fool of a king Robert exceled himself, when he dismissed the old knight" – the man sighed – "You are honored by his service, princess"

"You know him?" – Dany asked curiously.

"Quite well" – the man nodded – "We fought together many times"

"At the Iron Islands, I take it?"

"Aye"

"Did you take Old Wyk under ser Barristan?"

"No"

"No?" – Dany said with surprise - "Where did you fight together then?"

"None of your business" – the man snapped – "I haven't got all day, so hurry up and eat your stew"

Dany chuckled and obeyed, but while she ate, she took the opportunity to survey her savior as closely as she could. He was a tall, broad – shouldered and sinewy man in his mid-thirties. Dark almond shaped eyes overhung by thick black eyebrows dominated his strong, willful face. He was bald with only a small fringe of short black hair on his head, but the neat, closely cropped mustache and beard that covered his square jaw were thick and bristly. He was not what Dany would call handsome, but there was something very attractive in his strong and hard, yet finely cut features. He seemed to radiate a calm, confident benevolence, which, together with the look of shrewd intelligence in his eyes and the sharp, commanding voice, betrayed a leader.  
His attire was the image of plain practicality and comfortable convenience. He was dressed in a plain white cotton shirt, a dark brown jerkin of boiled leather, thick woolen breeches but his belt and his boots were made of very fine black leather. The sword at his side was as fine a weapon as Dany ever saw.

"I still feel bad not knowing your name, though" – she said sweetly – "You know mine, so it's only fair to tell me yours"

"It isn't fair, since you didn't tell me your name" – the man shook his head – "I guessed it all on my own"

"So now you want me to guess yours?" –Dany huffed.

"What good will it do you?"

"I would know how to address you, for one thing. And it might give me a clue as to why you're helping me."

"I'd leave that subject alone if I were you" – the man said cryptically – "But rest assured. As long as you don't reveal your presence to anyone, but myself, my friend and the maester, you won't come to any harm. And when you're recovered I'll send you home, I swear on my daughter's life"

"You've got a daughter?" – Dany smiled – "How old is she?"

"Eight on her next nameday"

"That's a lovely age to be…" – Dany said almost nostalgically as she remembered the long lost little house with the lemon tree and the red door.

"It may be hard to guess a man's name, but his profession is much easier to decipher. You're a sell – sword, aren't you?" – she added suddenly, hoping to catch him off guard – "At least you were once…"

"Was I?" – her savior smiled rather playfully.

"Of course you were! Just look at yourself…" – Dany giggled as she finished her wonderfully satisfying meal – "Wide knowledge of warfare and healing, plain, practical clothes worn together with a very expensive weapon, excellent high valyrian… You're obviously not a lord"

"The first two arguments are valid, I grant you" – he hemmed, handing her a clean piece of cloth

"The third is solid" – Dany smiled slyly as she wiped her lips – "There are two reasons for a westerosi to learn high valyrian. The first is being a Targaryen. Since we're the only descendants of Old Valyria in Westeros, traditionally we're the only ones to learn high valyrian from the cradle. It's our second first language. And the other reason is traveling or living in a place where few people speak the common tongue. Only merchants or sell swords do that"

"Fair enough" – the man nodded.

"Let's see…" – she continued enthusiastically – "You know Dragonstone very well, otherwise you wouldn't be able to find and hide me. You're in a position to keep soldiers and servants well away from this part of the castle. You're good friends with the maester. The usurper's brother trusts you completely, but is willing to gamble with your life… Therefore… you are… commander of the castle garrison! "

"Good guess"

Dany smiled triumphantly. She was going to continue playing their little guessing game, but it was ended abruptly by a quick knock on the door.

"Need you!" – came Davos's muffled voice from the other side.

Stannis quickly helped Dany lie back down, then unlocked the door.

"The beast's body's been pulled out onto the slope just outside the castle wall, your lordship" – Davos said quietly – "The sailors're guarding it, as you ordered"

"Good" – Stannis nodded and then looked over his shoulder – "Is there anything you need before we go?"

"No, thank you, commander" – Dany answered, settling down comfortably.

"Commander, eh?" – Davos asked, eyeing his friend curiously as they ran down the steep, narrow staircase.

"She decided I'm an ex sell –sword, who is presently in charge of the Dragonstone castle garrison" – Stannis shrugged his shoulders.

"A sell – sword?" – Davos giggled mischievously.

"Be quiet before you give me a good reason for shortening your tongue as well as your fingers, Davos" – Stannis frowned – "I'm not in the mood!"

"You're not going to tell her who you really are?" - Davos smiled affably.

"No. And neither will you" – Stannis said sternly.

"As you wish, my lord" – Davos shrugged his shoulders - "May I ask what you mean to do with the dead dragon?"

"There's no way of keeping the incident quiet, so we're going to make the most of it" – Stannis sighed heavily – "First and foremost it'll provide solid proof to the lords and smallfolk of Westeros and any lands beyond, that dragons are not some kind of supernatural magical unbeatable fire - weapons, but mortal creatures of flesh and blood. And that the Targaryen is not as great a threat as she is supposed to be."

"Especially with one dragon down" – Davos nodded – "But the king's not going to be happy about his little brother being the dragonslayer, is he?"

"Depends on what mood he's in when he hears the news" – Stannis sighed – "But I'll cope with his displeasure. What I'm really worried about is the girl. Since the accursed beast died here, Dragonstone is the first place both her friends and her enemies will start looking for her. How long before someone discovers you're smuggling food and linen in and out of the Sea Dragon Tower?"

"Months if she and the maester keep quiet enough" – Davos replied reassuringly – "Trust me, my lord, it won't be as difficult as you think. The tower is practically deserted anyway and there will be a lot le… fewer guards in the castle for the next couple of months"

"Indeed" - Stannis sighed heavily as they finally left the Sea Dragon tower and entered the gallery. It was a long, spacious corridor that stretched over the roaring sea and stony beach below connecting the Sea Dragon Tower which was built on a small island a couple of dozen yards into the sea to the main keep that stood firmly on the mainland. Its walls were richly decorated with carvings and statues of gargoyles and dragons that separated tall arched windows which provided light and a spectacular view of the harbor on one side and the wild beaches on the other.

There were no guards to greet the lord of Dragonstone and his friend when they left the gallery and passed through the black iron gates of the middle and inner walls. No guards on the wallwalks or in the courtyards. No guards at the entrance to the Stone Drum itself that was located on the third floor of the old seven – floor donjon, just above the Great Hall.

And there wouldn't be for several weeks yet, Stannis thought, his whole being sad for the loss of his men. Not until he calls upon the islanders and his lords bannermen who commanded several small islands in the Narrow sea for new recruits. But soon enough young men will come to serve and be taught and trained by the old warriors. The garrison would be restored, but not replaced. Never replaced…

In truth, the lost old warriors of Dragonstone castle meant much more to the lord than any other soldiers or sailors under his command. They were his comrades, his brothers in arms, most of whom had been at Stannis's side since the siege of Storm's End. He knew what all of them were like, knew their stories, even their families. Though not the most diligent or laborious of men, his garrison were the only ones he could truly trust to hold their ground even at the gates of the Seventh Hell. And they did… And he would never forget any them… Never…

But as soon as he and Davos entered the long, serpentine corridors of the Stone Drum Stannis put his grief aside, focusing completely on the tasks ahead. There would be time for that later and now he had a whole island and a lot more to look after, he thought as they descended to the second floor and went out onto the gallery of the Great Hall.  
The hall was a vast structure, shaped like a dragon lying on its belly with its main gates set in the beast's mouth. It occupied most of the first two floors of the Stone Drum and was connected to the kitchens, the pantries and a number of other rooms by numerous dragon head shaped doors. And just like the rest of the castle the enormous room was decorated richly with carvings, frescoes and tapestries depicting one thing only – dragons. Dragons of every possible size shape and color hunting, sleeping, fighting and dancing. However the latter was privately considered by Stannis to be more like mating.  
Bannisters, handles, windows, tables, bunks and chairs, even the huge fireplace in the center of the northern wall – everything was either dragon shaped or decorated. A fact that even after seventeen years still vexed Stannis greatly.  
No doubt the décor was supposed to be majestic and fearsome, but Aenar the Exile or whoever else designed the place had no sense of limits whatsoever, he thought grumpily. Ten, twenty, even fifty carvings and statues would have had an ineffaceable effect on anyone, but covering every bloody square inch of the whole damned castle with dragons was just ridiculous.

In the middle of the Great Hall stood several huge trestle tables also decorated with dragon carvings. They were occupied by most of the castle servants eating their lunch and chatting excitedly. At the end of the hall was the dais with the high table. It was empty, except for little Shireen, who was sitting in the corner chair with her septa, eating her stew. Stannis's eyes softened instantly when his saw his darling little daughter for the first time after spending a month at King's Landing. But the child was clearly upset by something and he could make a pretty good guess what it was…

"Father!" – Shireen cried joyously when she spotted him at the top of the stairs.

The buzzing of the room died out immediately. Everyone quickly rose to their feet and bowed to greet the master of the castle, except little Shireen who sprang out of her seat, dropping her fork to the floor and darted across the hall. Stannis waved carelessly, allowing everyone to sit down again as he walked slowly down the stairs and watched his daughter run towards him. Her face was plain and deformed with greyscale, but the glow of pure happiness and unending affection in her big blue impish eyes made her face almost look beautiful.

"Yes, what is it, child?" – Stannis grumbled as she flung her little arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.

"You're back!" – she whispered joyfully, pressing her good cheek against his belly – "I've missed you!"

"Oh, come now…" – Stannis huffed, rolling his eyes. He petted her head awkwardly, throwing a couple of dangerous looks at Davos and a few servants, whose big smiles were a little too endearing for Stannis's liking.  
Why on earth did women, even little ones, insist on openly displaying affection, especially in public was beyond him. Did they honestly believe that sloppy sentimentality had anything to do with real devotion? That was just as ridiculous as believing that a market conjurer's tricks had anything to do with real magic. Or was public humiliation in their strange, illogical minds somehow proof of attachment?

And as if embarrassing themselves wasn't bad enough, they just had to drag him into it as well! He loved his daughter dearly and would give his life for hers in a heartbeat, but did he really have to embarrass himself for her as well?

"Is it true that a dragon came to the mountain yesterday?" – Shireen blurted out excitedly as she finally let go of her father's waist – "And that you killed it?"

"It is" – Stannis nodded - "Ser Davos and I led our brave warriors into Dragonmont to find and kill it before it killed the rest of us"

"But where did it come from?" – the child asked enthusiastically, her deep, beautiful eyes wild with curiosity – "Maester Cressen said dragons were all extinct"

"Not all of them, child" – Stannis said loudly as he knew all too well that every single person in the room was listening to him and his words would surely be passed on around the whole island and way beyond – "Three dragons were hatched five years ago by lady Daenerys Targaryen. But it's very difficult to tame and control such a strong and wild beast. This one must have escaped her and flown to Dragonmont. The old mountain has been a favorite place for dragons to build their layers for hundreds of years"

"Yes, I've read about that" – Shireen replied excitedly – "The wild ones, Grey Ghost, Sheepstealer, and Cannibal spent their whole lives here. Sunfyre the Golden even flew home to die"

"Not to die, child" – Stannis shook his head – "To heal itself in the fire – geysers"

"So the old legend is true?!"

"Aye"

"Is it true the sailors pulled the dragon's body out of the cave and brought it down here?" – Shireen asked with an impish gleam in her eye.

"Yes, it's just outside the northern wall" – Stannis replied, realizing where this was going – "Ser Davos and I are going to inspect it more closely."

"Can I come with you?! Please, father, can I come see the dragon?!" – the little girl asked skipping and clutching her hands together imploringly – "Pleeeeeaaaaaaase!"

"Yes, you can" – Stannis sighed with a little smile on his face.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" – Shireen squealed as she hugged her father's waist again.

"Forgive me your lordship" – the old septa said meekly – "But lady Selyse has forbidden…"

"Has she?" – Stannis asked, lifting an eyebrow at the old woman who fell silent and lowered her eyes immediately – "Come along, child!"  
Normally he would've respected his wife's orders, but not this time. It was pointless and just cruel to deprive the little girl of the once in a lifetime opportunity to see a real dragon, especially since Shireen had been obsessed with the beasts since she could talk.  
Selyse's reason for forbidding Shireen to leave the castle was of course her wish to protect the girl form cruel japes and herself from embarrassment. But the child would have to face the world sooner or later and no one would even think of looking at her the wrong way when her father was around.

Shireen yelped with delight and darted for the gates. Stannis and Davos followed closely, feeling many pairs of eyes watching them with admiration and curiosity. Very few men have faced a fire – breathing beast and lived to tell the tale.

"Do you think the dragon could've laid eggs?" – Shireen asked, skipping happily at her father's side as they made their way through the deserted courtyard.

"No" – Stannis replied – "It was too young, only five years old. If my memory serves me right, dragons don't reproduce until they're at least fifty"

"How do you know that?" – the girl asked with surprise. She had never known her father to be even remotely interested in dragons. And he certainly never told her anything about them.

"Apparently your lord father knows a lot of things he prefers to keep to himself, my lady" – Davos said, sounding just a little hurt. Of course he knew Stannis to be a very closed off person, but still found it strangely wounding, that his friend never told him about the high valyrian and a lot of other things he was obviously hiding. He was sure Stannis had called him 'Rhaegar', when Davos was trying to wake him after the battle…

Stannis glanced back maliciously. Davos was his dearest friend, but he was dangerously close to treading into forbidden territory that no one was allowed to disturb.

"I believe I was told so by the Mad King when I was your age" – he answered – "And you, ser Davos, will spend the rest of the journey contemplating what I said earlier about your tongue"

"What else did he tell you?" – Shireen asked with peaked interest.

"Few things I hardly remember" – her father said evasively.

"But if you do remember, you will tell me, won't you?" – the child squeaked hopefully – "Please?"

"Very well" – Stannis sighed, silently cursing himself. He did not want to recall any of the memories that were tucked away carefully into the darkest depth of his mind, so he had absolutely no business saying anything to a smart and curious child. The little imp would surely find a way to fish some of them out, since she knew he could barely refuse her anything.

A sharp cold wind blew salt and smoke in their faces as Stannis, Davos and little Shireen came through the outer north gate. Storm clouds were starting to gather over Dragonstone and the sea grew more and more restless. But the spoiling weather was no obstacle for the enormous crowd that surrounded the long, gracile body of the dead dragon. It seemed like the whole island was gathered together to see a legend come to life. Gossip whirred through the air like a huge hive of bees and the onlookers fascinated curiosity was almost palpable. The sailors and some of the surviving garrison officers that stood sentry round the beast were more than happy to provide the crowd with detailed accounts of the battle. And since the field infirmary was less than a hundred yards away, several surgeons off duty were happy to add their penny to the tale.  
The crowd parted and bowed respectfully as the lord of Dragonstone, whose nickname was promptly changed from 'Iron Stag' to 'Dragonslayer', walked slowly to the center of the circle flanked by his closest friend, recently dubbed the 'Scalding Onion' and his heir. Many eyes traveled involuntarily to the girl's unsightly, deformed face, but she didn't seem to mind. Like a little animal released from its cage, the child drank in every little detail of her surroundings greedily, her smart, shiny eyes travelling around the slopes, never settling for a moment.

When the trio finally reached the center of the circle, they were greeted deferentially by the guards and ladies Selyse and Melisandre, who were inspecting the dead beast curiously.  
Selyse's face went sour the moment she saw Shireen dart to the dragon's muzzle, but one stern look from her husband was enough to persuade her to save the argument for later. Melisandre, on the other hand, smiled sweetly and congratulated the lord lavishly on his success. Her ardent speech caused a mighty cheer to erupt from the crowd that hailed the Lord Dragonslayer and his brave men as heroes worthy of legend.  
Stannis acknowledged them calmly, never allowing his triumph to show. He had little regard for their enthusiasm, for he knew perfectly well that the rabble would've cheered just as loudly if he or any other man was about to be executed. But even Stannis couldn't help feeling almost euphoric from such a grand demonstration of people's love, especially since he wasn't at all used to it. He felt his heart soar with a proud sense of accomplishment, lifted to the Seventh Heaven by the thundering cheers.

"Move the beast into the outer northern courtyard. Or better still, as close to the armory as you can manage" – Stannis told Gregor Chandyll, commander of his amphibious infantry, who joined him in the center of the crowd along with other high naval officers as soon as they were able to get through – "Your men will stand sentry at all the gates and patrol the walls until the castle garrison is fully restored. Sentries change every three hours, patrol goes out every hour… you know the drill"

"Aye, my lord" – Chandyll nodded.

"And you lads" – Stannis said, turning to the survivors of the garrison – "Are off duty for the next week at least. If any of you wish a leave, it is granted. Report to me personally or to ser Davos"

"Thank you, my lord!" – the men bowed gleefuly.

"Shouldn't you move the injured into the castle" – he asked one of the surgeons – "There's a storm brewing"

"No, my lord. Ten men with lesser burns have been returned to their homes or to the barracks under supervision and the rest won't make it through the night. There's really no point…"

"Very well. Ladies, we're returning to the castle" – Stannis called, turned on his heels and began walking briskly through the newly formed live corridor. Little Shireen gave the dragon's muzzle one last parting stroke and ran after her father, closely by her mother, the priestess, Davos and a few officers.

"Oh, he was so beautiful!" – Shireen squealed cheerfully as they entered the inner courtyard - "He's just like Balerion the Dread, only smaller. It's such a shame you had to kill him."

"That dragon is a gift from the Lord of Light" – Selyse said piously – "And a blessing to our house"

"Blessing indeed" – Stannis snorted – "One hundred and fifteen of my best men were killed by the… beast. Some have been disfigured for life. Does that sound like a blessing to the two of you?"

"No" – Shireen answered meekly – "But he's still beautiful…"

"The beast is a blessing" – Selyse repeated calmly – "It was a gift, my lord, an answer to our prayers. An envoy of R'hollor who took the due sacrifices you were unwilling to give and a sign of happiness"

"It is true, my lord" – Melisandre said joyously – "The Lord of Light has heard our prayers and cast his light upon you and your family!"

"Have the two of you been preaching this malicious nonsense to the crowds as well?"- Stannis growled, gritting his teeth.

"It is the truth!" – Selyse said defiantly.

The officers, including Davos, scampered away quickly, sensing a horrible scandal about to explode in the lord's family.

"Shireen, go with Davos, he'll escort you to the keep" – Stannis hissed through his teeth.

He always did his best to watch his language and be respectful to his wife in front of their little daughter, but now he wasn't at all inclined to do either.

Had Selyse indeed gone completely mad, he thought. She may be a stupid, arrogant, prudish hysteric and a petty tyrant with no regard for people of lower rank whatsoever, but she was never cruel enough to burn people as a sacrifice or see death as a blessing. When in the seven hells did she sink so deep into such misconceived fanaticism?! And as for that manipulative little bitch of a priestess… perhaps she was much more of a threat than he initially thought.

"And what exactly were you praying for, if I may ask?" – Stannis snapped, trying his best to contain his temper.

"For you to believe" – Melisandre replied in a sweet, silky voice – "For the Lord to send proof of his powers to your lordship. For the glory of your house and for its future"

"Don't you see how highly the Lord of Light regards you, Stannis?" – Selyse smiled zealously – "You are indeed one of his chosen! Just think of it! A dragon, a mighty magical creature sent for you as living proof of His power!"

"I spit on his regard and on his gifts!" – Stannis replied contemptuously – "As I spit on the Seven and all the other stupid idols and their fairytales invented and repeated by blind morons, who'd rather blame the world than take responsibility!"

"How is a man such as you to be convinced if you refuse to see a miracle that was thrown right at your face!?"– Selyse shrieked, appalled by her husband's blasphemy.

"Thrown is a good word" – Stannis chuckled, remembering quite another miracle that was quite literally thrown at him. A very beautiful and charming one, even if it was horribly dangerous.

"Don't you understand that the lives of those pitiful nobodies have been claimed by the Lord to bring you glory and cleanse my womb?!" – Selyse continued shouting – "Now we will have a son, don't you see?! Or is even a miracle not enough to get you into our marriage bed?!"

"Those pitiful nobodies, as you call them, were my most loyal men and my best warriors!" – Stannis shouted back – "And if that's the kind of miracles that god of yours sends you, than I do not want any of his blessings, not even the son you promise me! And the blasted beast flew to Dragonmont because it's a dragon and that's what dragons do. And have done for centuries"

"Forgive me, my lord, but why now?" – Melisandre asked respectfully – "Why on the same night your lady wife and I and a thousand other men implored the great R'hollor to cast his light upon this island and its ruler? Surely you do not believe this was a mere coincidence? And surely you cannot deny the existence of magic and the Higher Power after fighting dragonfire?"

Stannis took a deep breath and paused for a moment. The woman's arguments were more than valid and not easy to get around. Did he believe in Higher Powers? Of course he did and he always would, but those powers were not at all the same as the various idols people all around the world prayed to. Did he believe in magic? He'd be a bloody fool not to! And he had learnt enough in his life, to know that there's no such thing as a coincidence, but the dragon's appearance most certainly had nothing to do with the fire – night…

"Whatever my beliefs may be, they do not concern you, my lady" – Stannis finally replied – "And you do not have any place in this conversation between man and wife"

"Of course, your lordship" – Melisandre bowed abjectly – "You are absolutely right. Please forgive my rudeness"

With that the beautiful priestess quickly floated away towards the keep gates.

"It is you who are the blind moron now!" – Selyse hissed maliciously – "Why must you be so stubborn, when I'm trying my best to be of service to you?! Why must you always refuse to do your duty as my husband? Why must you always defy me?!"

"I'm not defying you, Selyse, I'm trying to make you see reason" – Stannis huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Aren't you?!" – she spat – "Then why did you bring our daughter to see the beast, when you knew I had forbidden it?!"

"You forget yourself, woman!" – he answered angrily – "It is not for you to question my judgment. Shireen loves dragons and will most likely never get another opportunity to see one. What's the harm in indulging her natural curiosity?"

"You seem to forget, my dear husband, that it was your indulgence that ruined her life and made her the little monster that she is!" – Selyse replied spitefully – "I told you not to spoil the child, but you bought that doll for her anyway!"

Stannis could swear he felt the words strike a blow to his chest. That was a vile and cruel hit below the belt. He would have gladly ripped the woman's throat out for saying what she said, but the truth was, that she was horribly, mercilessly right…

"Never again will you insult my daughter, you bloody bitch!" – he hissed back, his piercing dark blue eyes burning with such fierce rage, Selyse couldn't help looking away in fear. This was the first time in ten years that she was actually afraid of him. They had fought countless times before, but never had she seen such relentlessness in her husband's gaze. And suddenly she knew an unknown line was crossed and there was no way back – "Do you hear me? Never!"

"She is my daughter too!" – she screamed desperately.

"Then you will do well to remember, that it is not greyscale that makes people monsters" – he said icily – "And don't you dare mention my duties to me again! My lady!"


	5. Chapter 5

The raging gale tore at the old and battered rocks of Dragonstone island, as if its swirling winds and crashing waves were once again testing the strength and courage of the men, who dared to live and do business in the shadow of the dark old mountain.

Storms were quite frequent on the rocky little spit of land lost in the Narrow Sea and after three hundred years of battling the elements, its inhabitants were well prepared for anything the distressingly playful and treacherous sea chose to throw their way. All the houses in the city and villages were made of stone with foundations fastened firmly into the rock and all the streets were designed to go downhill, so the water flooding them would flow freely back into the sea, washing away all the dirt. The harbor was well fortified, surrounded by several breakwaters and served as a secure safety heaven for all the ships in its docks.

As flashes of lightning flew wildly across the lead – covered sky, tearing the heavens open and sending down relentless torrents of rain and dirty dark – brown streams off the slopes of Dragonmont, most of the islanders stayed home, tending to undone chores and waiting patiently for the sea to calm down. And tomorrow or in a few days the sky would be clear again, any damage repaired and it would be business as usual on Dragonstone. Until the next storm…

But if there was one person who was thoroughly upset and worried because of the storm, it was the lady Selyse. Ever since it started several hours ago she had been standing in front of the fire – altar in the center of her room, hands raised and head bowed abjectly in prayer.

"Lord, cast your light upon me and my family" – she whispered piously – "Protect them in the darkness. Forgive their doubt and help them see your light. Help us serve you and help my husband see reason. I pray you, use us as you will. For the night is dark and full of terrors"

The door to her chambers suddenly opened and Selyse gasped as her chest tightened with hopeful fear. Could it possibly be that her prayers had been answered and her husband finally decided to visit her?

She turned around cautiously and her heart sank as she saw that it wasn't lord Stannis standing in the doorway.

It was stupid to get her hopes up again when she knew that there was no hope, Selyse thought bitterly as she gave the Red Priestess a vague smile and gestured her to come in.

Stannis would never come to her, no matter how much she begged, demanded or prayed. Especially after a huge fight…

Selyse gulped down a lump of tears in her throat as she remembered their quarrel that seemed to make the already infinite distance between her and Stannis even larger.

Contrary to what most people, including Stannis himself, believed, Selyse did love her husband. Dearly. From the first time she saw him on the day of their wedding. She just never knew how to make him aware of the special feelings that hid behind the cold and detached countenance she was brought up to present to the world. But even if she could somehow show Stannis how dear he was to her heart, would he even care to know? She knew the answer all too well…

Selyse sniffed quietly and her eyes swelled with tears when she thought of what her husband's reaction might be if she ever found the courage and stupidity to confess her love. Scorn? Disgust? Anger? Or, worst of all… indifference?

"Forgive me for disturbing you, my lady" – the beautiful young priestess said with a gentle smile as she floated quietly through the door.

"You could never disturb me" – Selyse replied sadly – "And you coming just at this time is the greatest of comfort to me"

"The storm troubles you, my lady?" – Melisandre asked with genuine concern in her velvety voice as she came up to Selyse and touched her shoulder affectionately.

"Yes" – Selyse sighed heavily – "I have no doubt that my husband in his stubborn ignorance has angered the Lord by refusing his gift, hence this deluge…"

"You know the Lord's will well, my lady"- the priestess replied gravely – "The Lord of Light doesn't take kindly to men who refuse his gifts. Especially ones of such magical grandeur"

"I'm afraid my husband's beliefs are quite… radical" – Selyse sighed and shook her head – "The Lord knows how hard we both have tried to make him see the truth, but to no avail"

At least that is one poor conciliation, Selyse , of course, that Stannis seemed to be just as indifferent to the charms of the beautiful priestess as he was to herself. For months now Selyse was doing her best to turn a blind eye to her friend's blatant attempts to seduce her husband.

No act done in service of the Lord of Light could ever be a sin, she told herself.

But Selyse couldn't help secretly rejoicing each time Melisandre was unsuccessful. Because it was one thing to put up with Stannis' hard and cold indifference knowing that that was the treatment he afforded all women. But if, God forbid, he should ever fall in love with anyone… she could never bear it!

"I fear for him" – Selyse continued – "And for our daughter's soul"

"Every mother should fear for her child's soul" – Melisandre replied affably.

"She's a stubborn little beast" – Selyse huffed irritably – "Just like her father! Stubborn and sullen and sinful."

"It is natural for a child to follow her father's example" – Melisandre shrugged her shoulders – "Especially when she is as devoted to him as your daughter is to his lordship"

"Of course she is devoted to him!" – Selyse replied spitefully as she felt herself become sick to her stomach with jealousy – "He spoils her and allows her to do anything she wants, regardless of what's good for her, refuses to say 'no' to her and forces me to be the 'bad parent', who…"

"Please do not distress yourself, my lady" – the priestess said rather urgently.

She was sick and tired of the woman's constant complaining and really couldn't take it anymore. Did Selyse honestly find it strange that her husband didn't want to interact with her any more than he absolutely had to? Melisandre knew she didn't! But unfortunately, this ugly, ridiculous wretch of a lady was the priestess' only foothold in Dragonstone castle. And Melisandre couldn't risk jeopardizing her mission to convert the Master of Ships to the One True Religion just because she was tired of the woman. She would sooner die than fail like that pathetic drunk Thoros! Why in the world did the High Priest charge him with converting king Robert Baratheon was beyond her. She could've done so much better…

"This closeness of theirs might be a blessing in disguise" – the priestess continued patiently – "A hidden way to spread the word of our Lord"

"Oh?" – Selyse asked with surprise.

"I have often found that children can be very open-minded, once approached with something interesting. I believe your daughter likes dragons? I have heard many rumors of the fierce children of Fire living in the Mountains of the Morn beyond Asshai. Perhaps we could speak with her and peak her interest. And through her, her father's…"

"I'm afraid we will be doomed to failure since Stannis refused to be interested even when a real live beast was thrown right in his face" – Selyse replied skeptically – "But I will do anything to bring my daughter to the Light"

"Shall we pay the lady Shireen a visit, then?" – Melisandre smiled gently – "I'm sure she would enjoy a story or two on a stormy night like this…"

Stannis stretched comfortably as he finally managed to sit down in front of the fire in his chambers. After seemingly endless two days of fighting dragons, rescuing Targaryens in distress and dealing with other, more trivial matters like storms, field infirmaries and forming a new temporary garrison, he was at long last free to get some much needed sleep. But, as tired as he was, Stannis couldn't even think of going to bed, which was very unlike him. He had long understood the value of peaceful slumber and always managed to set aside even the most urgent and important matters, knowing that he would solve the problem the next day to the best of his ability. And if he couldn't… oh, well… then he couldn't.

But tonight his mind was too caught up in questions and possibilities which soon made way for old, deeply hidden emotions and memories.

Stannis rarely allowed himself to think of the times which were both happiest and saddest in his life. Because those memories would only bring back old pain and serve no purpose. However, judging by recent events, fate itself was set on reminding him of the early days of his youth, blessed with real friendship, shining hope and true love. Friendship betrayed, love lost and hopes crushed, he chuckled bitterly, letting his mind race and his heart bleed as he sat in the safety of darkness and solitude, listening to the raindrops pattering the glass on his window, the fire crackling and strikes of thunder echoing through every corner of the keep, adding their roar to the booming sound of the winds playing the Stone Drum.

He had always loved storms. Even as a child, unlike most of his peers, he never tried to hide from the sounds of rolling thunder, howling winds and churning seas. He would sit by the window or stand on the balcony for hours, enjoying the sense of peace and safety they never failed to give him. As if they were a veil that could hide him from the world and somehow relieve the hollow pain of loneliness deep in his soul. Perhaps it was strange to find peace in chaos and tranquility in danger. Was it the "old Storm Kings' blood playing up" as his father used to joke, much to the displeasure of his Targaryen grandmother, who refused to associate her favorite grandson with the Durrandon line she detested? Or because he "could hear the quiet on the other side of the storm and cries of pain on the other side of silence" as Rhaegar had once said?

Rhaegar…

Stannis sighed heavily as he felt sadness mixed with a tender, loving longing that never failed to fill his heart whenever he remembered his cousin. Even now, eighteen years after their last meeting he still missed the young man, who had not just been his prince and his cousin, but a dear, dear friend. Missed Rhaegar's huge, sad eyes and melodious voice. His radiant smile and melancholy disposition. Missed playing cyvasse and discussing every possible topic from Rhaegar's beloved poetry that usually bored Stannis to death, to economics and diplomacy, to Stannis's favorite subjects - history of war and strategy. Missed riding and hunting and practicing swordsmanship…

Stannis chuckled as the memory of their last fight sprang out of the depth of his mind. It happened nineteen years ago here, on Dragonstone. There was no harbor and no city near the castle back then. Just a myriad of rocky, wild beaches…

Stannis could almost feel the spray of the sea flying through the air, flickering in the sunlight and landing on his and his opponent's faces, cooling them down and impeding their vision. Both young men were standing ankle – deep in the cold, restless water, in nothing, but their soaking wet breeches and fighting so hard, it might've been to the death. Their squires and a few friends were standing about a couple of dozen yards away, watching intently and cheering them on.

The muscles beneath Stannis' skin shifted as he remembered diving down to avoid Rhaegar's sword, gathering a bit of seawater in his hand and suddenly throwing it in his opponent's face. Rhaegar jumped back. Clearing his eyes with his left hand, he delivered a few blind strokes that Stannis avoided easily. Carrying the momentum, Stannis darted forward, ducked down and pushed his opponent back as Rhaegar's sword swished right above his head. Rhaegar remained standing and was quick enough to avoid a blow from Stannis' sword that ended up cutting water. Recovering immediately, Rhaegar jumped clear and landed face to face with Stannis once again. And for several minutes their swords smashed against each other, singing their metallic songs. Next it was Rhaegar's turn to attack, but his opponent evaded his stroke and again seized initiative by taking advantage of Rhaegar's mistake and giving the prince a powerful punch in the back with his fist. Rhaegar fell forward, but once again remained on his feet. Their blades crossed. Seeing another opening in his opponent's front, Stannis tried to kick him in the chest, but Rhaegar deflected the blow with his arm and pushed Stannis back. Stannis launched himself forward again, but it was his turn to make a mistake by opening up too much and he soon paid for it by receiving a powerful kick in the chest from Rhaegar. Once again the two opponents crossed blades, dancing around each other, hitting and deflecting strokes. But then, suddenly and quite unexpectedly for Stannis, Rhaegar swung his sword down and back up, stopping his blade half an inch before Stannis' throat.

The fight was over. He had lost… again… as always…

Everyone cheered and applauded the winner.

"I must say, your swordsmanship has improved considerably since last we met, cousin" – Rhaegar smiled affectionately as he lowered his sword.

"Clearly not enough to beat you, though" - Stannis chuckled and nodded, acknowledging his defeat.

"Someday, cousin, but not yet" – Rhaegar smiled, throwing his sword back to his squire, young Myles Mooton – "Not yet…"

But their swords never crossed in single combat again, Stannis thought sadly. And he never got to defeat his friend. Robert did that instead of him…

That filthy, drunken slut, who now sits upon the throne that by every right belonged to Rhaeger, Stannis thought feeling burning hatred for his older brother course through his blood like poison.

His responsibility. His fault. If he had joined the loyalist forces, Storm's End would have fallen and then nothing could've saved the rebellion. But even now Stannis couldn't find it in his heart to regret his decision to answer Jon Arryn's call to arms. Because, contrary to what everyone believed, he did not choose Robert over Rhaegar… Or rather… It wasn't Robert he chose over Rhaegar…

Stannis closed his eyes and smiled gently as he saw a black-eyed and black - haired young woman standing on the porch of an old roadside inn near Storm's End leaning carelessly on the dark railing. Cheerful and carefree, her face shining with happiness, the early spring sunlight caressing her petite form… The vision melted quickly to make way for another one… the tender smile on her lips and fire in her eyes as they lay in each other's arms under the blanket of the darkest night…

It had been over twenty years since his young heart got touched by love for the first and only time. Yet even now he could still feel the old flame burning in the depth of his soul as brightly as it had when it first appeared. Forbidden, felonious, stolen love, the price for which was far too high...

Could things have been different, Stannis thought sadly as he felt the weight of questions and possibilities once again fall heavily on his shoulders. Could the eighteen year old boy he was possibly have avoided the mistakes he had made? Would it have made a difference if he had? All the right solutions seemed so obvious to him now that he was a grown man with vast knowledge and experience… However, there was one thing Stannis knew for certain…even now, knowing everything that happened, with all the pain and tragedy that followed… he still would make the same choice…

Suddenly Stannis was pulled out of his reverie by a hurried knock on the door. There were no guards outside his chambers tonight to ward off unwanted visitors, so he cursed under his breath and just didn't answer. He was in no mood for company, so whoever wanted to see him could go to hell and take their business to Davos.

"M'lord, I know you're not sleeping!" – called a cheeky voice from the other side of the door – "Please let me in, there's an urgent matter that requires your attention"

Apparently the gates of the Seven Hells were nearer than he had imagined, Stannis thought grumpily as ser Davos knocked again.

"Damn you and your sixth sense!" – Stannis snapped irritably.

"How the hell do you always know I'm awake?" – he grumbled without looking up as a smiling ser Davos entered the semi – darkness of his chamber.

"I'd been a smuggler for almost ten years" – the knight replied, presenting his standard excuse – "Forgive me for disturbing you, m'lord, but…"

"And what if I don't?!" – Stannis interrupted grumpily – "Alright, what is it that couldn't wait?"

"I think you'd better come to the sept and see for yourself" – Davos replied rather urgently.

"I've had enough of religion for one day, thank you very much" – Stannis said stubbornly, not wanting to even guess what this was all about – "Can't you handle it?"

"I'm afraid not, m'lord, not this time."

A feeling of annoyance and dread came over Stannis as he approached the old sept and saw a small huddle of patrol guards and servants looking inside curiously through widely open doors. The sounds of raised voices that echoed loudly up and down the old temple left no doubt that there was a very heated theological dispute going on. Stannis cursed under his breath as he recognized the hysterical high – pitched wailing of his wife, mixed with the booming basso of the septon, joined by the creaky tones of old maester Cressen and the normally quiet voice of Shireen's septa.

What in the seven hells were those idiots thinking, making such a pathetic and embarrassing spectacle of themselves in the middle of the night, Stannis thought crossly. In the sept, of all places!

He didn't like the Seven any more than the Red God, but there were norms of respect and just plain decency that could not be violated for any reason.

But what angered him most, was the barely detectable, calm and musical voice of the Fire – Priestess.

So, the woman had grown confident, or should he say impudent enough to enter the sept and insult the Seven by preaching her nonsense inside it? Well, she would soon find out that lines have to be drawn every now and then. And such behavior was definitely on the wrong side of the divide.

As soon as the onlookes saw the master of the castle approach, they scampered out of his way fearfully, pretending to run back to bed or to their duties, but Stannis knew full well, that they would be gathered outside again within seconds of him entering the sept. He contemplated telling Davos to shoo them away, but decided against it. He would have them see and spread the word of what happens when religion of any color or origin forgets its place.

Throwing severe glances here and there, Stannis made his way into the beautiful old sept and was unpleasantly surprised to find his little daughter standing next to one of the colorful crystal altars, giggling at the screaming adults.

"What do you think you're doing here, child?!" – Stannis asked sternly, but quietly.

Shireen, who was too engrossed in the spectacle to notice her father come up, jumped with fright. But recovered quickly and answered with an impish smile

"I was praying with septa Lysa and maester Cressen when mother came in with the red woman and…"

"You what?!" – Stannis snapped – "At this hour?! You should be in bed, not wasting your time and breath on those ridiculous idols!"

"I couldn't sleep, so septa Lysa took me to see the maester" – the girl replied calmly, never fearing her father's rough tone – "And he said that prayer is as good a remedy as any for…"

"Oh, he did, did he?" – Stannis huffed, raising an eyebrow and looking dangerously at the squabbling quintet that was still oblivious to his presence.

"So we came down here to pray for all the wounded and dead soldiers and to thank the Gods for your victory…" – Shireen continued.

"The Gods had nothing to do with it, child! Men killed that dragon, not some absurd all – benevolent spirit with seven faces, sat on a cloud! We owe that victory to the courage, skills and sacrifice of my warriors, most of who gave up their lives so the rest of us can live on safely, do you understand? "

"Yes, father, I know that" – Shireen nodded impatiently, wanting to tell the rest of her story – "So, when we were praying, mother suddenly ran inside with the red woman and shouted that she didn't want me worshiping the false gods and would only allow me to pray to the one true god…"

"I never thought I'd say that, but I agree with her" - Stannis said with a small contemptuous huff – "I don't want you worshiping any false gods either"

"You think the Seven are false gods too?" – Shireen asked looking up curiously at her father.

"Of course I do" –Stannis replied seriously – "The Seven, the fire – god, the drowned god and any other god that needs an idol, a temple or a cult is false. They're nothing more than fables for week men, who would rather place their trust in an illusion than in themselves. And all those fables must be dealt with in the same way…"

"Beg pardon, my lord" – Davos intervened cautiously – "Perhaps I should take lady Shireen back to her room…"

"You will do no such thing" – Stannis said icily – "Let her watch. I'm going to teach my daughter a lesson about religion"

Sensing her father's rising anger, Shireen moved closer to Davos and both held their breath as Stannis made three more steps forward and suddenly yelled at the top of his lunges

"SILENCE!"

The sound of his deep, commanding voice thundered through every corner of the old sept and rolled down the corridors, sending shivers of fear through the newly formed small crowd of onlookers and instantly quenching the argument between the champions of the Seven and R'hollor like a bucket of ice – cold water poured over a candle. All five opponents turned around immediately and four of them bowed abjectly. Selyse, however, remained still, her face beetroot with rage.

For a moment a heavy silence hung thickly in the air as Stannis watched each of the breakers of the peace with a murdering look in his eyes. The septon was staring at the floor, beside himself with shame, his long and usually tidy beard and robes completely disheveled. Septa Lysa stood next to him, clutching a copy of "The Seven Pointed Star" to her chest and looking down, just as humiliated. Stannis could swear he saw her shrink a couple of inches as she felt his gaze travel up and down her form. Old maester Cressen was breathing heavily, muttering something with only his lips and every now and then throwing hateful glances at Melisandre, who unlike her companions, seemed quite calm and relaxed with only her rosy cheeks reminding of the argument that only moments ago was shaking the walls of the sept.

So, you think you have nothing to fear, do you, Stannis thought as he watched her hold his gaze. How can you be so sure? Have you already heard something of the new taxes and realized that I need you and your fire – god to keep the Essos merchants here? Or is it your friendship with Selyse that makes you look so serene? Or is it just plain arrogance?

"Well, well, well… What have we here?" – he finally hissed through gritted teeth – "The septon of Dragonstone castle, the woman who is supposed to be my daughter's tutor, the measter of my keep and, best of all, my wife yelling the roof off Aenar's holy sept in the middle of the night"

"I am mortified this disgrace has reached you, your lordship" – the septon replied heavily – "But… "

"'Disgrace' is a gross understatement, your holiness, if you still dare to call yourself that" – Selyse interrupted hotly and added, turning her attention back to her husband – "That villain and his minions dared to openly defy me and disobey my orders!"

"That is true, my lord" – the septon replied piously before Stannis could even lift an eyebrow in vague curiosity – "I would defy any order that keeps a child's soul from being saved, even if it came from the High Septon himself!"

"I am fully aware of the events surrounding this disgusting spectacle" – Stannis said sharply – "But if the lot of you think I will allow anyone, let alone people who are close to me and are considered the ruling elite on this island, to behave like market wenches, screaming for a bargain in Aenar's sept of all places, you are in grave error. There can be no excuse for such an insult to this castle and to me as its master and I don't care what your reasons are."

"I'm afraid your lordship thinks too much of this" – suddenly came the flowing, gentle voice of the fire – priestess, who realized all too well what her being caught in this disgraceful situation would do to her religion's position on the island and was desperately trying to save the day – "It was nothing more than an unfortunate misunderstanding…"

"Enough!" – Stannis bellowed, finally losing his temper at the sheer audacity of the woman, who for some reason seemed confident enough to interrupt the master of the castle – "There is only one unfortunate misunderstanding here - your misunderstanding of my tolerance towards you and your religion. How dare you talk back to me?! How dare you show your face in another gods' temple and behave disrespectfully?! How dare you break the laws of the land that welcomed you and allowed your cult rights and freedom equal to the one that has been here for hundreds of years?!"

"Your lordship, I would never even think of…" – Melisandre tried to answer, putting her most shocked and mortified face on.

"You seem to be mistaking kindness for weakness and tolerance for blindness" – Stannis continued, taking no notice of her – "Allow me to set you straight. The lot of you! Guard!"

Immediately ten of his infantrymen, turned temporary castle guards, who were standing outside the sept, watching curiously, marched inside and saluted, ready to carry out any orders the lord might give.

"You will escort the priestess down to the city immediately. She is hence banned from the castle and its grounds"

"Aye, ser!" – two of the guards screamed, moving close to the priestess, who looked completely horrified, but was too wise to protest this time.

"She is forbidden to preach and preform any kind of the fire – rituals on this island" – Stannis continued, inwardly cursing Robert and his new taxes. He would dearly have liked to send the wench away for good, but in the present situation he just couldn't afford to have too big a conflict with the red priests – "And will return to Asshai the moment I so much as hear a whisper of her disobedience"

"But Stannis, there is a storm out there!" – Selyse shrieked in terror as she watched the soldiers walk her friend towards the door – "And you cannot possibly…"

"Oh, for goodness sake, be quiet, woman" – Stannis snapped, trying to control his temper and wishing he could send his wife away to the edge of the world with the priestess – "Go back to your rooms, I'll deal with you later"

"The Lord of Light will never forgive…" – Selyse began hotly, but was stopped midsentence by a very dangerous glance from her husband. She felt a shiver run down her spine for the second time today and decided not to test her luck anymore. Instead she gave him a curt, angry bow and stormed out of the sept.

"Septa, you will take Shireen to bed and when the blasted storm is over, you and his holiness here will board the first ship to the capital and appear before the High Septon" – Stannis continued looking angrily at the duo – "What he does with you is no concern of mine, but rest assured, you will not return to Dragonstone under any pretext, understood?"

"Yes, my lord" – both replied simultaneously as they bowed.

"You are right, there is no excuse for what occurred here tonight, my lord. And all the guilty parties deserve punishment" – the septon said gravely as he turned to walk outside – "But for the record, I must say that I do not regret anything I have said or done on this woeful night. Neither, I am sure, does septa Lysa. I have warned you about those people…"

"I have no use or interest for your warnings or regrets" – Stannis huffed rather contemptuously – "And I have heard enough from all of you tonight"

"Lads, help the man pack, will you" – he told the rest of the guards and then added, throwing an angry glance at the door – "And tell the rest that the show is over. I want a moment alone with the maester. Davos, you stay."

"Aye ser!" – the men replied and scampered away quickly, taking everyone else out of the sept and shutting the door tightly behind them.

"Davos, go check we're alone" – Stannis said quietly and rubbed his forehead with his hand as soon as the sound of heavy wooden gates being shut died down. No man could ever be too sure of his privacy, especially with Varys sitting on the Small Council.

"Cressen… What the fuck?!" – he sighed wearily, looking the old man straight in the eye.

They both knew too well that Stannis could never bring himself to scold, much less punish the old maester who had been his friend and teacher since birth and Cressen was sometimes a little too willing to take advantage of the lord's affection. At least that's what Stannis thought…

"If I were so unfortunate as to use such language in the sept… "- the old man began grumpily.

"Sod the language, man" – Stannis interrupted angrily – "What in the Seven Hells possessed you to take my daughter and that blasted nurse of hers to pray in the middle of the night and how the fuck did the lot of you get into a row with Selyse and the red woman?"

"The Septa brought lady Shireen to my chambers because the child couldn't sleep. Overexcited by the wretched dragon – business" – Cressen croaked, stressing the first two words, no doubt wanting to emphasize both Stannis' sudden shocking lack of manners and the fact that this was all his own fault – "Normally I would tell her stories to calm her down, but tonight I couldn't possibly have the child and the septa in the same tower with the Targaryen girl. And Shireen's room is far too high up for me to climb…"

"So you took her here" – Stannis finished rather irritably as he looked at ser Davos who, once sure the three of them were safe and alone, came to join the conversation – "What about Selyse?"

"After we entered the sept and sat down to pray" – Cressen continued slowly – "We were shortly joined by the septon, who was more than happy to pray with us for you and our fallen warriors. We had just gone through the Second Prayer to the Father, when quite unexpectedly, lady Selyse ran inside with the red woman and started shouting that the child was supposed to be in bed and that she wasn't going to allow her to pray to the Seven anyways…"

"And then?" – Stannis sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Well... without going too much into details the septon, rather heatedly, answered that the Seven were no false gods and that if lady Selyse wished to worship some fire – demon instead of the Gods of her fathers it was her own affair, but he wouldn't let the lady Shireen be led astray"

"I see" – Stannis huffed.

"Then the lady Selyse got even angrier, took the 'Seven Pointed Star' out of lady Shireen's hands and threw it away. The septa ran to pick it up and we both joined the dispute. We were trying to convince the red priestess that neither she nor her adepts had any business in the sept, when your lordship came in"

"Cressen, I appreciate your efforts but you know full well that I don't want my daughter's mind poisoned by religious nonsense" – Stannis said trying his best to sound affable – "So the next time you need to distract her, I suggest you send her to me or Davos instead of the sept"

"Of course, I wouldn't need to send her anywhere if only you would come to your senses and stop risking all of our lives by hiding the Targaryen girl in the castle" – the old man grumbled – "What is she doing here? Why do you insist on keeping her here, when duty and common sense dictate that you should send her in chains to Robert?"

"What the Targaryen does here is none of your business, old man" – Stannis, who suddenly became tired of being patient, replied dangerously - "Unless you wish to be released from my service, you will continue to look after her and keep quiet about it! Both of you! Is that understood?"

"Forgive me, my lord, I think you know that the maester and I are your most loyal servants and will do whatever you command us to" – Davos said cautiously – "But you cannot expect us not to worry when you are putting yourself and your family in mortal danger"

"It's because of prince Rhaegar, isn't it?!" – Cressen shook his head disapprovingly – "You're helping the sister to right the wrongs you did the brother, is that it?!"

"Davos, escort the maester up to his chambers and go to bed" – Stannis hissed angrily – "I've had enough of all of you for one day. And if you dare to speak of this nonsense about prince Rhaegar to anyone ever again, old man, I will rip your throat out, do you understand?!"

With that he stalked out of the sept, leaving an aggrieved maester and a completely stunned and confused ser Davos to watch him disappear in the darkness of the corridor.

"Fuck me!" – ser Davos muttered quietly when his speech finally came back – "Did he really just threaten to rip your throat out!?"

Even though he was wide awake and perfectly sober, Davos was sure his senses were playing tricks on him. Never in his entire life had he known Stannis to make an idol threat. Except, of course, all the numerous times Stannis told him, he would cut off his tongue or his fingers or... something else, when Davos made one too many jokes at his master's expense… But this time Davos didn't doubt Stannis was dead – serious and it was simply not possible for his master to threaten the man he loved almost like a father.

"Yes, he did, ser Davos" – Cressen whimpered quietly, leaning on Davos' arm – "And he might even carry it out…"

"But… but… but… why?!" – the knight asked, staring wide – eyed at the old man, who for some reason, didn't look at all surprised.

"That's what happens when you really test his patience to the limit and tread into forbidden territory, ser Davos" – the maester sighed heavily – "But sometimes it is necessary to do so at any cost"

"What do you mean, 'forbidden territory'?" - Davos said suspiciously.

There was definitely something very fishy going on and he didn't like it one little bit. Stannis helping the girl, calling him 'Rhaegar' last night, being fluent in high valyrian, knowing quite a bit about dragons and now flying into a temper because the maester mentioned the old crown – prince's name… far too much smoke not to be fire!

"You'll find out sooner or later" – Cressen replied cryptically – "Come, let us go. I'll need a strong arm to help me battle all those stairs"

Battle indeed, Davos chuckled to himself as he listened to Cressen quietly hurl curses at each and every step of the long, steep, narrow staircase of the Sea Dragon Tower. They had been slowly clambering up to the top for almost half an hour and the knight was beginning to wonder if he would be able to follow his lord's orders and get some sleep before dawn broke.

Suddenly the old man stopped at one of the numerous divarications of corridors and turned right instead of left, heading to the Targaryen girl's chambers instead of his own.

"I need to make sure the girl took her potion. And I forgot to apply the White Kawa ointment to her wounds in the evening" – he croaked quietly, answering ser Davos' silent question.

"Can't you do it tomorrow?" – Davos grumbled as he helped the old maester up yet another tall and narrow step – "Dawn's not too far away"

"And walk two extra times up and down these accursed stairs?!" – Cressen grumbled – "No, thank you! I took it with me especially before going down to the sept…"

Davos could've made the point that according to basic arithmetic there would actually be only one extra trip – down the accursed stairs, but the old man was obviously set on accomplishing his task and Davos himself was far too interested in the mystery of the dead Targaryen prince to make Cressen turn back.

Dany woke up with a jump when the sounds of the door being opened and someone creeping into her room found their way into her peaceful dreamless sleep. She looked around in alarm and her heart leaped to her throat when she saw the old maester and one of her saviors standing in the doorway.

"What's the matter, child?" – the old man asked with surprised concern when he saw her sitting up in her bed – "Why are you awake? Do you have trouble sleeping? Are you in pain?"

"I'm perfectly alright, thank you" – Dany replied with a little tone of worry in her voice – "I was sleeping, when I heard you come in. Is something wrong?"

"Nothing to worry about, princess" – said the younger man, whom she had decided to nickname "smuggler" as he was the one to bring her to the tower. Then he took a splinter from the fire and lit the candles on her bedside table – "The maester here wanted to make sure you were alright"

"In the middle of the night?" – Dany asked suspiciously as she examined their faces that looked a bit too solemn for her liking or was it just the effects of candlelight – "Why are you two up at this hour?"

"There was an unpleasant incident somewhere in the castle" – the smuggler waved dismissively – "Nothing to concern your pretty head with"

"You didn't get into trouble, did you?" – Dany asked the maester as he sat down in the chair next to her bed and took her hand to check her pulse. The old man was obviously troubled by something and she refused to just sit and watch without at least trying to do something to help her friends. Even if the only thing she could do was listen.

"The maester here did" – the smuggler answered with a little cheeky smile and poured some wine into Dany's cup – "He and a few others got on the wrong side of lord Stannis, I'm afraid"

"That fat ugly bastard didn't harm you in any way, did he?" – Dany asked affectionately – "If he did I'll make him pay for it! If I ever get out of here that is…"

"Well, he certainly threatened to" – the smuggler chuckled – "Said he would rip his throat out"

"That scum!" – Dany huffed indignantly – "What a thing to say to an old man! Did the commander get into trouble also?"

"Oh, he certainly did" – the man nodded gravely – "He'll have to have a word or two with the High Septon, that's for sure. And what he'll have to endure from his wife… the Seven help him is all I can say…"

"That lord of yours got him into trouble with his wife?!" – Dany asked, looking completely confused.

"Well, that's lord Stannis for you"- the smuggler shrugged his shoulders with a sly look on his face – "A man hard as nails, severe, but just."

"Hard as nails?! Just?! Don't be ridiculous" – Dany snorted – "He's a drunk and a coward who's too fat to even lift his sword, I've no doubt. And I've no doubt, the maester was right to do whatever he did and so was the commander. And that jerk had ho business to threaten them"

"You didn't say all those things about Stannis to the commander did you?" – the smuggler asked cheekily.

"Of course I did" – Dany replied, feeling rather proud of herself for some strange reason – "He didn't exactly agree with me, but…"

The smuggler guffawed, but the measter dropped her hand and shook his head at them, looking very displeased.

"Davos, for goodness sake, be quiet!" – the old man hissed - "You'll wake the whole castle with your caterwauling. And stop teasing the girl. It's not funny!"

"Oh, so your name is Davos" – Dany smiled at the younger man who was still shaking with laughter and wiping his eyes – "It's very nice to finally be able to call you by your name. What is your name, maester?"

Instead of replying, the old man slammed his hand over his mouth and shook his head again, sending Davos into a new fit of laughter.

"Oh, come on, maester, it's too late to now" – Dany insisted, giving him a gentle, friendly push – "What's the harm in telling me your name? And the commander's name too"

"Dear, oh dear! Trust an old fool to blubber" – the maester grumbled – "Stannis is always right, isn't he, I really should have my throat ripped out, or at least my tongue"

"His name is maester Cressen, princess" – Davos replied – "Don't look at me like that, maester, she's right it's too late to back down now. And since Stannis's promised to kill you anyway…"

"Kindly stop joking, ser Davos" – the old man croaked angrily – "If S… commander as you call him finds out, which he will…"

"Oh, come on, maester, cheer up" – Dany smiled – "I won't say anything if you don't want me to. I can keep a secret"

"Not from him…" – Davos shook his head with a smile – "Even if we all keep quiet, he'll guess sooner rather than later. Sometimes I think the man is too smart for his own good"

"Sometimes I agree" – maester Cressen grumbled.

"Well then I'll talk to him" – Dany said calmly – "There's nothing wrong with you telling me your names! The three of you risk so much for me…"

"Do not worry about us, my dear" – the old man interrupted her rather urgently – "Did you take your potion in the evening?

"Yes, but…"

"Good! Davos, get her shirt up and help her lie down" – Cressen said as he took a small pot of some white, greasy, fragrant ointment out of his robes.

"Hold still, princess" – he said as he started applying it on the wounds on Dany's side and stomach – "You must get well, and that is all you should think about. You're quite safe here, I promise"

"But if the usurper's brother finds out…"

"Lord Stannis?"

"Whatever his name is" – Danny spat – "If he discovers you helped a Targaryen, he will kill you"

"He won't" – Davos said quite unexpectedly.

"You think so?" – Dany asked with disbelief. Such a notion seemed ridiculous, but she could tell the man was serious and meant every word he said.

"I know so" – he answered calmly.

"Davos, be quiet! Have you gone mad?!" – maester Cressen hissed in panic.

"How?"

"Because it was Stannis, who brought you here, princess" – Davos smiled genially – "The man you believe to be the commander of the castle garrison and the usurper's brother that you hate so much are in fact the same person"

"What?!" – Dany gasped in shock.

She could believe neither her ears, nor the man's words.

This was not possible! It couldn't be true! – her mind screamed frantically. But the look of sheer horror of the old maester's face left no doubt that it was true…

A long, heavy silence hung above the three of them as Dany stared at the two men, refusing to take in what she had just heard.

"But why would he help me?!" – she blurted out when she could finally speak again - "He means to give me up to his brother to win back his favor, is that it?"

"He promised he wouldn't give you up and he won't" – Davos shook his head.

"Why? Because he's so good and honorable?!" – Dany spat contemptuously.

"Yes" – Davos answered calmly and confidently. Dany turned her head to look at the maester as if asking him to confirm the man's words and saw him nodding.

"If you don't believe us, think about this. If he wanted to give you up, why all the secrecy?" – Davos added with a cheeky little smile.

"I don't now…" – Dany shook her head in confusion – "But why would he want to help me?"

"Probably a number of reasons…" – the old maester replied mysteriously – "One of them being kindness. I suppose it's natural for you to find it puzzling… And you're right. His brothers would've left you where you fell"

"And the other reasons?" – Dany asked rather skeptically.

"You should ask Stannis about those" – Davos said cryptically – "He never does anything for less than two or three… But there is one other reason I think I should tell you. He's helping you because he was a good friend to your brother"

"What, Viserys?!" – Dany blurted out, knowing perfectly well how stupid such a supposition was, but her mind was in too much confusion from medicine and shock to think straight.

"No, you idiot, prince Rhaegar"


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's note_ : I've seen very few times of day mentioned if ASOIAF, so I decided to add a couple of my own names)) hour of the boar is about 4 pm, dawn is 6 am and sunrise 7 am.

* * *

"They had been friends for many years" – maester Cressen spoke softly as he continued applying the white ointment to Dany's wounds – "Ever since they were children, playing at their fathers' feet. I'm sure you're aware of the fact that Stannis' father the late lord Steffon was the Ma… king Aerys' first cousin and one of his most trusted friends?"

"Mm - hm" – Dany nodded as she accidentally took too large a gulp of the warm, spicy wine packed with bitter – sweet herbs.

"They grew up together in King's Landing when lord Steffon served as a page at court, they learned together and fought together. And years later, they agreed that their sons should do the same"- the old man continued – "So, when Robert turned nine, lord Steffon took him and Stannis, who was seven, to King's Landing to carry on the tradition and serve as pages at court. However, lord Robert returned home almost immediately with his father. What was the reason for this I do not know, but when the princess Rhaelle, Steffon's mother, learnt of what had happened there was a terrible fracas. Half a year later Robert was sent as a ward to the Eyrie. But Stannis spent six years in King's Landing, serving as a page to King Aerys himself. He probably would have stayed on as a squire, but after the defiance of Duskendale lord Steffon decided it wasn't safe for Stannis to stay so close to the king"

"I bet it wasn't" - Davos huffed – "Aerys lost his marbles completely after what they did to him in that cell"

"No offence, princess" – he added affably as Dany looked up angrily– "Stannis was lucky the king didn't bring him along"

"Oh, yes" – Cressen nodded – "He might have done so, but thankfully Stannis was on his annual visit to Storm's End at the time"

"You were the maester at Storm's End before you came here, I take it?" – Dany asked with a cheeky smile – "Do you know what happened to maester Marwyn, your predecessor here on Dragonstone? I remember him very little, but I think he was a nice man. Nice and large and quite fond of wine"

"I regret to say that I know nothing of him, princess" - Cressen shook his head – "Someone at the Citadel must know, but unfortunately I've been out of touch with Oldtown for so long…"

"Oh…" – Dany sighed a bit disappointedly – "But we digress…"

"Aye. Unfortunately there is very little I can tell you of Stannis' time at the capital, but apparently he and prince Rhaegar had grown very close and used to spend a lot of time together. When Stannis came home from King's Landing, their friendship continued through letters and prince Rhaegar's visits to Storm's End. He would come down for several weeks after visiting Summerhall. And, my word, were those weeks jolly. Prince Rhaegar wasn't very fond of festivities and neither was Stannis, but lord Steffon and lady Cassana never missed even the smallest chance to have some fun. So during the prince's visit there would be hunting, entertaining and feasting almost every day. But of course, prince Rhaegar's songs and poems were the highlight of every single evening. They truly were miraculous. Each and every one of them."

"I know that. My brother's skills with verse and with his harp are still legend" – Dany smiled proudly – "But I've never heard any of his songs or poems. You wouldn't happen to remember some of them by any chance, would you maester?"

"Oh, no, princess" – Cressen chuckled – "That was too long ago for my rusty old memory"

"Pity" – Dany smiled sadly – "But at least you can tell me what Rhaegar was like. You must've known him"

"Of course I did" – the old man replied with a kind smile – "Prince Rhaegar, may he rest in peace, was a very fine and handsome young man. Always had a kind word for everyone, lord or servant. But anyone would tell you that much. If you wish to know what your brother was truly like, princess, you should ask Stannis. He knew prince Rhaegar better than anyone who is still alive today. He was much closer to the prince than he had ever been to his own brothers. Especially after lord Steffon's untimely death, when Stannis became acting lord of the Storm Lands while Robert was still in the Eyrie and Rhaegar became the lord of Dragonstone. Why, the prince even brought his wife and children to stay at Storm's End while he was on his last visit to Summerhall…"

"If they were all that close, then why didn't your master stand beside my brother at the Trident as he should have done?!" – Dany snapped angrily – "If he loved my brother more than his own, why did he betray him? Why, I ask you?!"

"I'm afraid I do not know" – Cressen shrugged his shoulders helplessly – "All I know is that Stannis never would've done what he did without very good reason"

"Good reason?!" – Dany spat indignantly.

"It truly is very strange, even incomprehensible to those who know lord Stannis well"– Davos said musingly – "But I completely agree with maester Cressen, princess. I can't think of anything that could possibly have made…"

"There is no such thing as 'good reason' for betraying someone you're supposed to love" – Dany interrupted bitterly.

"It is very late, my dear" – Cressen said firmly as he finished treating the wounds on Dany's side and stomach and pulled down her shirt – "There will be plenty of time to discuss the matter later. You need to rest"

"How can I possibly sleep after hearing everything you two have just told me?!"

"A couple of cups of that delicious wine will do the trick" – Davos replied with a cheeky smile as he pulled up Dany's blanket with one hand and helped the old maester get up with the other – "You should rest and try to calm down before you talk to lord Stannis tomorrow"

"Oh?" – Dany huffed indignantly.

"I'm no diplomat, princess, but in my experience, anger and strife never got anyone anywhere" – Davos shrugged his shoulders. Then he blew out the candles, took the old man's arm and walked him slowly to the door.

"Good night, my dear" – Cressen said gently, turning around as Davos opened the door for him – "We'll see you in a few hours"

"If you manage to wake up before sundown" – Dany grumbled quietly and started turning on her side carefully. She just couldn't get used to all the plasters and bandages that covered her body and she didn't exactly want to.

"Davos, you scheming blaggard!" – hissed maester Cressen as soon as the door was closed behind him – "What are you playing at, telling the girl who Stannis is, when he ordered you not to?! Do you realize what will happen when he finds out?!"

"With all due respect, maester, I doubt Stannis's going to be much happier with you telling her of his friendship with prince Rhaegar" – Davos replied with a sly grin.

"You tricked me into it" – the old man grumbled angrily – "You wanted to know what happened between Stannis and Rhaegar, so you forced me to tell her the truth"

"I did nothing of the sort" – the knight chuckled innocently – "I only told her what I knew, there was no reason for you to…"

"You, scoundrel!" – croaked Cressen - "When Stannis finds out you disobeyed him, he will kill you"

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't" – Davos shrugged his shoulders carelessly – "But if you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep before I die. So let us get a move on"

The shining afternoon sun was still hidden from the world by dark stormy clouds and heavy rain was still hammering on the glass window when Davos woke up. His dark, cold chamber was shaking as the rumbling sound of wild winds crashing into the castle walls echoed up and down the Stone Drum. The fire had gone out in the night and only a feeble light was crawling from the window through the darkness, allowing Davos to make out the cheeky face of his young son Devan.

"Father" – the lad called, shaking his shoulder – "Father!"

"Aye?" – Davos muttered sleepily as he forced his eyelids open.

"Father, wake up, please. His lordship wants to see you."

"What?" – Davos grumbled absently. He was trying his best to make himself focus, but after almost two days of no sleep he was beat. Even though he had managed to get to bed before dawn this morning, he was still feeling unrested.

"His lordship wishes to see you" – Devan repeated with a note of urgency in his young, ringing voice.

"Aye" – Davos sighed resignedly as he yawned, crawled out of bed and began to dress – "Is it sunrise already?"

"Sunrise? It's way past midday"

"What?!"

"They'll soon be ringing the bell for the hour of the boar"

"Seven Hells" – Davos muttered as he put on his doublet – "Ten hours of sleep and I'm still tired. I'm getting old"

"Yes, you are" – the little imp grumbled – "You're also making me later by the minute"

"Being disrespectful to your father are ye', ye' little rascal?!" – Davos chuckled as he eyed his son with mock severity - "You'd think Stannis would teach his squire some manners. What're you late for anyways?

"For my fencing lessons. And you're late to see lord Stannis. He told me to fetch you in the morning if you were up and if not to let you sleep. But now he's asking for you again"

"Fencing? Thought there's a storm out there…"

"There is. But lord Stannis says that a warrior must be prepared to fight at any time" – Devan replied proudly – "And bad weather is good practice"

"Ah!" – Davos smiled, rolling his eyes.  
The phrase 'lord Stannis says' was like a prayer his fifth son repeated as often as he could. He had been the lord's squire for almost a year and he practically worshiped the man. As did Davos himself and the rest of his family.

"So if my lord father would be kind enough to dismiss me and join lord Stannis in the Chamber of the Painted Table" – Devan replied – "I would be very grateful"

"If your lord father would be kind enough to dismiss you, you'd be very grateful, would ye'?" – Davos chuckled ironically, lifting an eyebrow at the lad. Devan's tone, his posture and his words were all impeccably polite, but nothing could hide the cheeky gleam in the imp's eyes – "Alright, off with you, you little scamp"

Devan bowed respectfully and ran out the door. Davos smiled proudly as he watched the lad skip down the corridor.  
Stannis may say anything he likes about gods in general and the Seven in particular, Davos thought happily, but how could a man doubt Gods' grace and mercy when he was so blessed?  
And Davos had been blessed beyond his wildest dreams. He served a lord whom he loved as his best friend and believed in with all his heart. He had a knighthood and lands to keep his family provided for. A loving, gentle wife to grow old with, seven splendid sons to be proud of and, Gods be good, his eldest son Dale, recently married, would soon provide him with his first grandchild.  
A granddaughter, hopefully, Davos smiled dreamily as he walked up the dark narrow stairs to the top floor of the keep. Although Dale would disagree with him…  
Or maybe, the Gods would someday bless Marya with a little girl. He spent no more than a few months a year at home, but he would do his best, Davos thought, his heart warmed at the thought of seeing his wife again. It would be such a joy to see a daughter after seven sons. But it would be a sin to complain as all the lads were fine young men and were doing very well.  
Dale, the eldest, was captain of a war galley called 'Wraith'. A strong, capable and steadfast man, who, pretty much like Davos, loved his family, but lived to serve his lord and admiral. Allard, the second, was hot – headed and rash, but quite smart and after quite a few slugs and hugs from lord Stannis and his father, became captain of the 'Lady Marya', a war galley designed by Stannis himself. His third son Matthos was a good lad, but not too bright. He was a sailor on Davos' own galley 'Black Bertha' and Davos doubted he would ever rise any higher than that. Maric, the fourth, was like the best version of his two oldest brothers. He was oarmaster on the 'Fury' itself and Davos had no doubt he would go far. The two youngest Stannis and Steffon were only seven and four years old and stayed with Marya on Cape Wrath until their time came to serve their lord. And finally, the fifth one, Devan was both his father's greatest hope and worry. Had he been raised in Fleabottom, he would have ended up on the Wall, Davos had no doubt. Smart, shrewd and fearless, Devan had always been a little hooligan with no regard for rules or consequences and insatiable curiosity. Both Davos and Marya were worried sick when Stannis told them he would take the lad for his squire. They could not imagine how the calm and orderly Stannis having a little madcap like Devan in his service might end in anything, but anger and misery for both. But to their astonishment, Devan soon settled into the strictly regulated life on Dragonstone and was the happiest person in the world to be a squire. He learned voraciously and Stannis, who soon became quite fond of the boy, educated him well. Both in warfare and in life.  
Even now, almost a year later, Davos couldn't quite understand why the two of them were so well – matched. Perhaps, Devan just grew into his true character. Or perhaps, deep down, Stannis wasn't really all that proper after all…

Davos knocked lightly and opened the door to the Chamber carefully. Stannis hated being disturbed even if the disturbance was on his own orders and Davos had no doubt the lord had been deeply engrossed in his work for hours. Since he was always sailing between the Red Keep and Dragonstone, Stannis' paperwork and mail was split in half and there was always a pretty pile for him to deal with when he came home. The mail that was marked 'urgent' would of course be sent to him immediately wherever he was, but usually the commanders of the Lannister and Redwyne fleets sent messages to King's Landing, while mail from the shipyards on Cape Wrath and anywhere else, came to Dragonstone. But those letters were just a small part of the huge load of papers that Davos saw covering the Painted Table as he peeked in. The domestic affairs of Dragonstone island and its extensive trade and shipyards, the problems of the lands sworn to Dragonstone… for the Master of Ships, work was endless.

"My lord?" – Davos called gently.

"Come in, ser Davos" – Stannis grumbled, never lifting his eyes from the letter he was reading – "Sleep well?"

"Wonderful" – Davos smiled, deciding not to complain of his lasting fatigue to Stannis, who had obviously had a lot less rest. Although Stannis had always made it his priority to train and build up endurance both in himself and his men, so they would be able to function well under tiring and stressful circumstances, he looked tired and wasn't in the best of moods as far as Davos could tell.

"Well, good for you" – Stannis muttered a bit enviously – "Have you checked on the Targaryen girl yet? Has Cressen seen her today?"

"No, my lord, I haven't" – Davos shook his head – "I don't know about measter Cressen, but judging by the weather I doubt he's even up yet"

"So do I" – Stannis huffed irritably – "Go feed her, then"

"Forgive me for asking, but have you been to see her today, my lord?" – Davos asked casually, trying to hide the slight nervousness in his voice.

"Aye. Took her breakfast at the hour of the horse. She was still asleep" – Stannis replied absently and threw a scroll on the table in front of Davos – "This letter is to be delivered to the shipyard by hand as soon as possible. Send a message to the fleet engineers, I want see them in the armory in two hours. Also, I forgot to order the dragon's head to be cut off and preserved in honey"

"Preserved?!" – Davos asked, perplexed.

"Are you suggesting I should take a rotting one to King's Landing?" – Stannis snapped – "You know as well as I do that as soon as Robert gets my message, he'll want to see it himself"

"Of course, my lord" – Davos said meekly, cursing his slowness – "But the barrel that could fit that thing's head has not been made, so…"

"So, figure it out!"

"Yes, my lord"

"And after you've dealt with all of that, tell that wife of mine, I don't have time for her today" – Stannis added grumpily – "Devan tells me, she's been asking for me every five minutes since daybreak. As if I have nothing better to do, than listen to her endless moaning"

"About the priestess, I take it?" – Davos asked with a small compassionate smile.

"What else..." – Stannis huffed – "If she asks, say I'll see her tomorrow"

"Aye, my lord"

"And after that, feed the Targaryen again. If you need help with tending to her, call me, but otherwise I'm not to be disturbed by anyone"

"My lord" – Davos bowed obediently – "May I ask…"

"What?"

"What are you planning to do with the rest of the dragon? Is that what the engineers are for?" – Davos asked curiously.

"Aye, that's exactly what the engineers are for" – Stannis replied with an excited gleam in his eye - "Did you see how easily the obsidian stalactites cut through the dragon's hide?"

"I must confess it quite escaped my notice"

"Well it didn't escape mine, Davos. If the engineers and blacksmiths can figure out a way to create a mighty enough scorpion with bolts of obsidian and metal, the dragons will no longer be a threat to the world. True, the dragon was young, but its hide will still be useful to their research I think"

"Forget the dragons" – Davos replied enthusiastically – "A weapon that can cut dragonhide can cut anything!"

"Exactly"- Stannis smiled contentedly – "The work would have to be secret, of course…"

"What about the meat?" – Davos asked suddenly – "The engineers won't need the meet for their work…"

"So?" – Stannis asked confusedly.

"If it turns out to be eatable, we could sell it" – Davos chuckled – "I bet a few slices of salted dragon could be enough to feed an entire fleet with salted pork. And in the present situation…"

"Aye, it's not a bad idea" – Stannis nodded and added affably – "If that's all you wanted to say, stop looking so damn pleased and get going"

Davos smiled, bowed and left the room.

Pain was throbbing in Stannis' temples by the time he left the armory, but he took little notice of it. His heart was pounding with excitement after the meeting with the engineers. The discussion was animated and very interesting, but after a long while the plans for future research were lined out and the work would begin as soon as all the necessities were provided.  
The plan was to set up a well - guarded workroom in one of the caves of mount Dragonmont, so there would be enough space for a forge, for range and other things, vital to research. Every man was sworn to secrecy, the chain of command established and all were keen to start work as soon as possible. No doubt it would take months, even years to complete such a difficult task as creating truly effective obsidian weapons, but everyone was hopeful and excited.  
However, there was one huge difficulty that Stannis decided not to share with his men, which, of course, was money. He still had no idea what he was going to do with the taxes and the fleet, but there was time to solve the problem.  
Would Robert revoke his taxes plan if Stannis asked for it as a boon? Theoretically possible, but very unlikely. In fact Robert would most certainly wish to limit Stannis' resources and potential for power even more after the dragon incident…  
He could refrain from restoring his castle garrison for the time being. The infantry provided good enough security, he would save quite a bit of gold and, more to the point, decrease the odds of the Targaryen being accidentally found out with only a few men patrolling the keep.  
What should he do with the Targaryen girl, Stannis thought, never noticing his lips form a little smile. Should he reveal his real identity after all?  
Stannis stopped for a moment as he reached the third floor of the Stone Drum and decided to take a detour to the Sea Dragon Tower instead of going directly back to the Chamber of the Painted Table. He could afford to spend an hour in pleasant company before returning to his endless work…

"Don't bother, ser Davos, I'll do it" – Stannis called as he left the gallery and saw his friend walking a few yards ahead of him with a bowl full of delicious – smelling stew in hand.

"My lord!" – Davos exclaimed, jumping with fright – "You really should be more discreet. The tower might be usually empty, but as we smugglers say, there's no knowing what lies beyond the next turn"

"Sorry" – Stannis said as he caught up – "You're right, of course"

"Must feel good to relive your youth, eh, Davos?" – he added and smiled with the corner of his mouth – "Come on, be honest!"

"Life as your knight is the best I've ever known and the only one I wish for" – Davos replied honestly, but then smiled cheekily - "Although, being an outlaw does have a certain thrill to it…"

"I bet it does" – Stannis chuckled – "I'll take the bowl, you may go"

"Aye, my lord" – Davos nodded and did as he was told. But after making sure Stannis was far enough away, he turned back and crept after him. He wasn't going to miss that meeting for the world.

Dany was lying comfortably on her cushions and reading a small, leather – covered book that Davos had brought her. He man was illiterate, so he had no idea it would turn out to be some boring navigational guidelines, but Dany was happy to have anything to do instead of just lying on her back, staring at the fire or at the flickering candles and being mad all day long.  
She could barely stop thinking of what she had learned last night. Her blood was boiling with rage and contempt at the thought of her brother being so cruelly betrayed by a man he considered a dear friend. Davos tried to convince her that confrontation was pointless and she would do better to pretend as if nothing had happened and he was probably right. But Dany knew she couldn't act aloof around the man who did her family such wrong. She was no mere child, alone and scared. She was a queen, a khaleesi, breaker of chains and mother of dragons who was no longer in the habit of being silent and turning a reluctantly blind eye to evil. She held her own against an angry khalasar, against dark magic and the fire that birthed her dragons, against an endless desert, armies, plague, death and civil war. It was foolish to even think that she would cower before a traitor, however great a general he might be.

As she tried her best to calm down and concentrate on reading about seaweed, constellations and ocean currents, she heard a key turn in the lock and soon saw the man she'd been waiting for come into the room with a bowl of food in hand and a rather happy grin on his face.

"Commander" – Dany said sweetly as she put on a charming smile – "How nice of you to visit me. It's been a while, wouldn't you say?"

"It's only been two days" – he huffed as he approached the bed and put the bowl down.

"But a lot can happen in just two days, wouldn't you agree?" – Dany replied cryptically – "Sometimes even a moment is enough to change a person's life forever. Or even end it"

"Aye, it is" – Stannis replied musingly, sensing something strange in the girl's behavior – "Actually, I came this morning and you were asleep"

"What are you reading?" – he asked, looking at her searchingly as if trying to read her mind.

"Oh, some book about how not to get lost and wrecked while sailing round the Broken Arm" – Dany answered casually.

"It's not a book, you fool. It's a rutter" – Stannis chuckled as he poured her a cup of wine – "Nautical term for mariner's handbook of written sailing directions. Charts are the captain's or pilot's main guides, of course, but rutters can still be of some use at times. My friend must've pinched it from my chambers"

"Did he now?" – Dany smiled deviously, as the conversation was heading in the right direction a lot faster than she had anticipated – "I wonder, why would a commander of the garrison be at all interested in navigation?"

"I'm obviously a captain" – Stannis replied evasively, cursing himself for his carelessness.

"I'm sure you are" – Dany nodded – "But what else might you be, hm? A shipwright? The Master of Ships, perhaps?"

"Davos" – Stannis hissed angrily, as his face suddenly became passive and impenetrable.

"Oh, no" – Dany retorted – "Both of them. And you shouldn't blame them for telling me, I tricked them into it"

"Davos tricked Cressen into it, you mean" – Stannis said icily, his eyes burning with rage.

"But that's not all they told me about you, lord Baratheon" – Dany replied with equal anger – "I was exceedingly surprised to hear of your friendship with my brother. Your friendship and your betrayal"

A heavy and cold silence filled the room as Dany and her host stared at each other. The air was thick and charged as though it was ready to erupt in flames from the smallest spark. Dany's imagination must've run wild for a moment, but she could swear she heard blades clashing as she looked into the icy fire burning deep and bright in the dark – blue eyes of her opponent.

"Do you deny it?" – she asked with perfect and proud calm, ready to face anything that dared come her way.

"No" – he replied indifferently.

"So you admit that Rhaegar trusted you, loved you like a brother and you betrayed him to his death?"

"Yes"

"Why?" – Dany demanded angrily as burning blood rushed into her head.

Stannis remained silent. He kept staring at Dany, his gaze steady and impenetrable.

"And you expect me to trust you?" – Dany huffed.

"Do you have a choice?" – Stannis chuckled deviously.

Dany opened her mouth to answer, but stopped before a sound came out. The bastard was right! She didn't have a choice. He was her only hope of getting out of this accursed castle alive.

Stannis smiled, then turned on his heels and left the room. As he closed the door, he saw ser Davos creep up the stairs.

"My lord?" – he muttered rather meekly, seeing the fury in Stannis' eyes. He knew everything and all Davos could do now was wait for him to pass his judgment.

"Get out of my sight before I do something I regret!" – Stannis hissed through gritted teeth. Davos scampered out of his way and watched the lord storm down the stairs. The knight sighed heavily with relief. He knew his gamble had paid off and he would be forgiven.


	7. Chapter 7

"May the Lord of Light bless his lordship and grant him eternal life!" – Lazonos Hotaar, head of the Red priests of Dragonstone bowed sleekly as Stannis dismounted and threw the reins to one of his guards.  
The storm had finally ended in the early hours of the morning and the lord was on his way to inspect the damage to the city, the harbor and the fleet. He always walked the same long route that went through both harbors and the center of the city and afforded a good view of all the goings on. Usually he was accompanied by ser Davos, but this time he was on his own. A fact that didn't escape the priest's notice.

"Is that some subtle and dodgy way of wishing death upon me?" – Stannis said with a little grin as he eyed the priest from head to toe and, as always, found his repulsive appearance to be perfectly matched with his unsavory character.

Hotaar was a short, obese man in his fifties with a red, monkey – like face, small shifty eyes and a huge, bald, round head. His beard and mustache were grey and sparse, his skin oily. He was garbed in a long scarlet robe with ample sleeves and a large hood, girded with a rich golden sash.

Stannis gestured the red priest to follow and set off briskly through the market quay towards the military harbor that lay on the other side of it.

"That god of yours grants eternal life in heaven once he thinks we've suffered enough in the living hell here on earth, doesn't he?" – Stannis asked cheekily as his eyes traveled around every corner of the civilian harbor. The jetties and ships were, thankfully, safe and whole and the marketplace was already buzzing with venders opening their stalls and repairing the few damaged ones.

Hotaar did not appreciate the humor, but smiled, none the less. He always felt like he was walking on eggshells in the company of lord Stannis, and now, after the scandal in the sept, the eerie feeling in Lazonos' guts was worse than usual. But as he was the oldest and most high – ranking priest on the island, it was his duty to rectify the situation as best he could.

"That is not entirely true, my lord" – he replied, panting as he struggled to keep up with the younger and much fitter man – "But your lordship knows very well that we all pray nightly for your health and happiness"

"Of course you do" – Stannis huffed scornfully as he nodded to one of his lieutenants, who greeted him deferentially – "But apparently some of your acolytes are too literal in their understanding of the phrase. As well as prone to 'praying' in inappropriate places and far more zealously than is acceptable"

"Your lordship, we are all mortified by Melisandre's audacious actions" – Hotaar said slimily – "On behalf of all our acolytes and followers I humbly apologize to you and to the lord septon. I have yet to see him, but…"

"You will not get a chance to see him as he is leaving this island on the first ship that sails" – Stannis replied, nodding to another one of his sailors.

"My lord?" – Hotaar gasped surprised.

"High rank means great responsibility" – Stannis said, suddenly stopping in his tracks and turning to face the panting and sweating priest – "The higher the rank, the greater the responsibility. I will not allow anyone to flout the laws of this land and common decency"

"Your lordships speaks with the wisdom far beyond his years" – Lozanos replied breathlessly, wiping his brow with a small red handkerchief – "But I am sure you will understand how concerned I am…"

"Why would you be concerned?" – Stannis asked coldly – "What the priestess did is on her own shoulders, not yours. Unless she acted on your orders?"

"Of course not, heaven forbid!" – the priest exclaimed, horrified – "But since she has been banned from the castle and forbidden to preach, we are all worried that the Lord's Fires might not be tolerated within and even without the fortress walls"

"The laws of this land dictate that everyone is free to worship the gods of their choosing as long as they do not break the law or harm those around them" – Stannis said calmly - "I respect that as much as I respect the right of every man to decide what gods he does or does not choose to worship. Every religion is free and equal in my eyes. And as long as adepts of all possible cults agree to disagree on certain points, respect each other and coexist peacefully, they have nothing to fear"

"Thank you, your lordship" – the priest bowed abjectly – "The justice of your rule is legend on both sides of the Narrow sea. We are most grateful…"

"I would appreciate it if you would show that gratitude of yours by keeping you acolytes in check" – Stannis replied coldly – "And keeping in mind that one bad egg can rot the whole barrel"

"Certainly, my lord"

"Good"

With that Stannis waved the priest away dismissively and stalked towards the well – guarded military harbor where his beloved fleet was berthed. Soon he was being saluted by the guards and sailors, who were all ready and waiting for the Master of Ships to examine his vessels.

His inspection was always strict and thorough. His shrewd eye accessed each part of every ship as he listened to the report of its captain or first – mate and nothing could escape his gaze. The process usually took longer than was necessary, but Stannis couldn't help himself. His ships were like his children. They were all built under his supervision and many were designed by him personally. He knew everything about each one and knew most of the crew by face and name at least. Many of the sailors had been with him since the fleet was born. They took Dragonstone castle under his command, defeated the Iron fleet and subdued Old Wyk.  
As Stannis walked from ship to ship, he picked out a man here and there, remembered his valor and thanked him and his comrades for his service. His eyes travelled from sailor to sailor, never stopping and making every one of them feel that even for a brief moment, the admiral looked at him alone and spoke to him alone.  
The sea, his fleet, sailing and shipbuilding had for many years been not only Stannis' life and duty, but also his art and passion.

Hard to believe that there ever was a time when he didn't even think of becoming a mariner, Stannis thought with a sigh and a little smile as he mounted his horse and continued his journey through the city after a long and satisfying inspection of his vessels, the majority of which were completely unharmed.  
Especially not a shipwright. It was unheard of for the son of a noble lord to learn the craft of a commoner. And as a second son he was expected to become one of his brother's bannermen or household knights or pursue some other suitable career – at court, in a sept or at the Citadel. But when the "Windproud" was wrecked on the stormy waters of Shipbreaker bay, Stannis' world changed forever.

With Robert still fostered at the Eyrie, fourteen year old Stannis became acting – lord of the Stormlands, tasked to rule his brother's land with the help of his lord – steward. But Stannis couldn't just accept the fact that ships are sometimes sunk in storms, especially on waters as treacherous as those of Shipbreaker bay and go on with his life. Not after countless times of watching ships of all types sail successfully across in far worse weather.

There had to be someone responsible for the death of his parents except those blasted gods whose will Cressen was so fond of blaming, he had thought desperately. Perhaps the helmsman had made a mistake and hit a reef. Perhaps the captain should've stayed out at sea until the end of the storm. Or perhaps the ship itself wasn't solid enough and rode too unsteady on the water. And so he questioned everyone he could think of and searched through every source of information on ships and navigation he could get his hands on. Eventually, he found the answer and, as he probably should have expected, there was no one person or circumstance to blame. The "Windproud" was wrecked through a combination of poor decisions and bad luck as were countless ships before her and would be after her.

But when his research was finally completed, Stannis discovered to his own astonishment, he didn't want it to be over. Before he knew it, the sea had somehow turned from enemy to friend and the pain that drove him had become passion.

As time went on, Stannis began to learn the art of navigation from the captains of the small Baratheon fleet and in his second year as acting – lord, decided to expand the tiny shipyard on Cape Wrath. The plan was approved by his brother's guardian and, with the help of his lord – steward, by the end of the fourth year of Stannis' temporary lordship his shipyard was by far the largest one in Westeros. And Stannis himself was a fairly decent sailor.  
Of course, his skills and his shipyard turned out to be invaluable after the Rebellion. When Robert, or rather Jon Arryn, charged him with building an entire fleet in less than a year, Stannis dove head – down into his work. It didn't take a lot of watching the master – shipwrights for him to decide that he wanted to become one himself. So, after several years of studying, he did.

Stannis was abruptly and most unpleasantly brought back to the present by the squeaky sounds of his wife's voice, calling him from somewhere to his left. He cursed under his breath and pulled his reins. The guards saluted.

"My lord!" – screeched Selyse as she rode up to him with a very offended look on her face.

"What are you doing here, woman?" – Stannis grumbled and gave his horse a gentle kick as soon as she caught up.

"I'm on my way to see the lady Melisandre" – she replied sourly – "I wish to see her. And since you banned her from the castle, I shall be forced to go to her myself whenever I wish to talk to her. A lady should not be obliged to do such a thing"

"Who said you are obliged? You can always stop seeing her. You wouldn't have to exhaust yourself and your head would be filled with a lot less nonsense" – Stannis chuckled meanly – "Although some exercise might do you good, get some color into you"

"And, pray, what use would a woman have for color if her lord husband refuses to do his duty by her and his own house?" – Selyse asked bitterly – "It's been over a year…"

"For fuck's sake, be quiet, woman!" – Stannis hissed through gritted teeth, looking around cautiously – "Not here!"

"Where else? As usual, I've been asking to see you for almost two days and as usual you had the audacity to say that you can't spare me even a moment" – Selyse muttered quietly, trying her best to stop her eyes from swelling up with tears.

"As usual I'm in over my head with important paperwork" – Stannis shrugged his shoulders – "You know that perfectly well"

"So, your paperwork is more important than me" – she stated grievously.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" – he asked in confusion – "What have you to do with my work?!"

"I am your wife!" – Selyse exclaimed.

"I am painfully aware of that" – Stannis hissed quietly – "Now, for goodness sake! Go see that friend of yours and leave me alone. I've a lot to do here's and there's even more to be done back at the castle. I know you want to talk to me, I told you yesterday that I'd see you today and I will. I'll send for you in the evening"

"Oh, please, do not trouble yourself, my lord" – Selyse grumbled resentfully – "I would not wish to disturb you"

"You will not disturb me…"

"Do you think I'd want to see you after what you said to me?"

"Wha… First you were mad at me for not seeing you and now you're mad at me because I said I will see you?" – Stannis asked, perplexed.

"Pray, excuse me, my lord" – Selyse replied icily – "I would not wish to hurt you any further with my company. It must be very, very painful for you if you say it outloud"

"What?" – he said, completely taken aback by the outburst that seemed to him to come from nowhere.

"Women!" – Stannis angrily as he watched Selyse gallop ahead, followed closely by her own guards.

Why do they have to be so damn difficult and illogical?! Why do they love drama so much?! And why did he always end up offending them even when he didn't mean to?! Selyse was even worse than Cersei in that respect and Cersei was the worst. He would never understand them no matter how much he tried, Stannis thought hopelessly. Never…

It was already after sundown when Davos dared to even think of showing his face in the Chamber of the Painted table where Stannis was once again busy with his work. The encounter would've been unpleasant had Stannis been in a fairly good mood, but after his return to the castle, the guards told Davos there's been another row between the lord and his wife. Thus, Davos was in no hurry to face his friend as he'd endured quite enough caprice and malice from Cressen and the Targaryen girl, but unfortunately an urgent message from King's Landing had been burning his pocket for almost two hours now. And he did want to know what on earth the matter with lady Selyse was this time…

"My lord?"- Davos uttered angelically, poking his head through the heavy door.

Stannis scowled, but didn't shoo him away.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord" – Davos said meekly as he slipped into the room – "A raven just flew in from King's Landing. Message marked urgent"

Stannis glared at him as he ripped the small scroll out of Davos' hand and glanced through the note quickly.

"Tell Clifton to prepare the 'Fury' and bring the dragon's head aboard. Be ready to leave in three hours. As expected, his grace wishes to see me"

"At once, my lord" – Davos nodded curtly, but remained where he was.

"Well?" – Stannis barked, lifting his eyes from the paper in his hand.

"Forgive me, my lord" – Davos said humbly – "I just wanted to let you know that the Targaryen is doing quite well after last night. She's very angry off course…"

"Good" – Stannis answered calmly, turning his attention back to his work.

"Shall I tell the lady Selyse you wish to see her before you leave?" – Davos inquired cautiously.

He was really testing his luck. He knew was allowed to push the boundaries, but push too far and he would taste Stannis' wroth. And that was something no one wanted to do…

"Damn you, damn the Targaryen and damn the lady Selyse" – Stannis grumbled. He knew perfectly well what the nosy scoundrel was up to – "Should I shorten you nose as well as you fingers, ser?"

"Me'lord!" – Davos bowed respectfully and scampered out of the room.

And damn the blasted paperwork, Stannis thought as the door closed behind ser Davos. Perhaps that bloody wife of his was right and he really was neglecting his family. He hadn't visited little Shireen in quite a while and wouldn't be able to do so for a while yet. And he would much rather spend his last few hours on Dragonstone with his little daughter than buried in his work, which he had no chance of finishing before he left anyway.

Stannis sighed heavily as he stretched his sleeping muscles and got up from his chair.

At least there was one little person on the whole goddamn island who didn't lie, cheat, fawn, resent or disobey him. Yet…

Stannis smiled tenderly as he approached his daughter's chambers. It was one of those rare moments when his lips didn't just twitch into something remotely resembling a grin, but formed a real, sincere smile.

"All hands on deck! Bang! Bang! Bang! Hoist sails!" – the child's voice rang loudly and cheerfully, like a little silver bell.

Oh, goodness, what was the child up to now, Stannis thought warmly as he listened to Shireen excitedly shout commands she didn't understand.  
When did she add naval warfare to her list of interests? As if the girl's obsession with dragonlords and dragons wasn't bad enough…  
Not that he really thought such an obsession bad. But it was not appropriate for a highborn lady.  
"It's all your fault" – Stannis could practically hear his wife's usual complaint ringing in his ears – "How am I to make the child into a proper lady if you and that mongrel friend of yours influence her with your history books and your war – stories?! You shouldn't concern yourself with her until it's time for her to marry. Mothers raise daughters, fathers raise sons"  
As much as Stannis hated to agree with anything that came out of Selyse's mouth, there was no denying Shireen wasn't exactly ladylike. She should be sewing and playing with her dolls, not reading about dragons and, gods forbid, talking tike a sailor…

Stannis opened the door carefully and saw Shireen sitting on her bed, waving a small toy ship as if it were on choppy water.

"Oh, no! We've spit a mast!" – she screamed, completely engrossed in her game and not noticing him.

"Sprint a mast, child" – Stannis chuckled as he entered the room.

"Father!" – Shireen squealed happily and ran to hug him.

Stannis sighed awkwardly and patted her head as the little girl pressed her cheek to his belly again.

"Where did you hear all of those sailor's words, huh?" – he asked when she finally let go.

"The Onion Knight told me" – she replied, taking his hand and leading him to the bed.

"Did he tell you what they all mean?" – Stannis asked as they sat down.

"No… But he made this for me and we played 'pirates against the Sealord of Braavos'" – Shireen said happily and proudly showed off her new toy.

"Did you, now?" – Stannis chuckled as he looked at the beautifully carved little vessel and made a mental note to tell Davos what exactly his position on his daughter playing 'pirates' was.

"Yes, I'm reading a book about the adventures of Elyo Grivas, the first Sword of Braavos" – the little girl continued excitedly – "I love it, it's full of sword – fights and ships and treasures. But I was sorry when Elyo killed all the pirates, they're all so brave and jolly. I'd love to meet one, someday"

"No, you wouldn't" – Stannis replied sternly – "Pirates are cruel and vile creatures, who kill and rob honest people. They deserve to be hanged and you would do well to remember it, understood?"

"Yes, father" – Shireen said meekly.

"It's a beautiful boat, though" – he said, turning his attention back to the little vessel.

"It's not a boat, it's a battleship" – Shireen replied proudly – "It's my war – galley, just like the 'Fury'"

"Oh no, it's too small to be a galley" – Stannis shook his head – "Looks more like a cog to me"

"What's a cog?"

"A small vassal with one mast and a square – rigged sail" – replied Stannis, who was always happy to talk about any kind of ships.

"How d'you know my boat isn't a galley?" – Shireen asked almost offended.

"Because of its proportions. The hull is short. These here…" – he continued, pointing out parts of the little boat – "Are the stem and stern posts. They're straight, relatively long and rather vertical. A galley, on the other hand, has three or four masts, a beautiful, long, slender hull and…"

Stannis stopped midsentence as he noticed that Shireen was suddenly looking quite upset.

"So it isn't a battle ship?" – she asked disappointedly.

Now look what you've done, you fool, Stannis though furiously as he looked at her sad little face. Masts and proportions?! Are you serious, man?! This is a child's game not naval bloody architecture!

"Well… no" – he answered reluctantly. No matter how upsetting the truth was, he still wasn't going to lie to her – "But cogs are good for trade…"

Gods, Renly's right, you really are the worst bore in the Seven Kingdoms, Stannis sighed, desperately trying to remember anything even remotely interesting about cogs since trade obviously wasn't something to spark the interest of a child.

"… and Bryan of Oldtown's 'Spearshaker' was a cog" – he continued hopefully in a desperate attempt to rectify the situation – "And a great ship it was"

"Really?" – Shireen asked rather doubtfully, throwing her father a searching look.

"Oh, yes. Bryan of Oldtown was a great explorer and adventurer, who discovered many things about northern Essos. The 'Spearshaker' sailed the Shivering sea as far as Ibben. And that's a very dangerous voyage very few galleys would be able to make. Because a cog can sail in rough seas much better than any galley ever built"

"Well, exploring is interesting too, I suppose" – Shireen sighed, turning the little boat in her hands - "But it's still not a battleship"

Stannis shifted uncomfortably.  
Why did he always have to be such an impossible know – it – all as Renly rightly nicknamed him? Why couldn't he just let the girl pretend her toy was the galley she wanted it to be?!

Because it wasn't right, that's why… he grumbled to himself.

"Would you take me to the beach, father?" – Shireen suddenly asked pleadingly – "I really want to set my boat sail, but mother says I can't go. And that she'd burn my boat if I tried to sneak out behind her back with ser Davos"

"She said that?!" – Stannis gasped angrily.

"Yes. She doesn't like ser Davos" – Shireen nodded – "But if you take me, she won't do anything. Please!"

"I cannot do that" – Stannis said guiltily – "I've just received a message from the king. I'm going back to King's Landing in a couple of hours and I don't know when I'll be back"

"But you just got home" – Shireen whined sulkily.

"But you shouldn't try to sail that little boat of yours anyway" – Stannis continued – "It won't sail. It'll fall to the side as soon as it hits the surface"

"It will?"

"I'm afraid so…"

"Oh" – Shireen said sadly as her little head dropped down.

Stannis frowned painfully. He was bleeding inside to see the little girl so unhappy.

Once again, it was all his fault. Perhaps Selyse is right and Shireen'd be better off interacting with her father as little as possible. There was nothing he wanted more than to see his little daughter happy, but somehow he always ended up harming her.  
He'd ruined her life by giving her the accursed doll and greyscale along with it. Thanks to him, Shireen was forced to spend her childhood shut up in her room like a prisoner instead of running free. He was supposed to protect her, but he was never around long enough to save Shireen the grief of a stupid and cruel mother. He couldn't take her to King's Landing with him as the bastards at court would be much worse than anything she'd have to endure at home.  
One day, not too long from now, she'd become a woman. A kind and clever young woman. He would, of course, do everything in his power to arrange a good match for her, but the sad reality was that Shireen would most likely never be loved as a woman should be. Respected – yes, admired – possibly… but nothing more. All thanks to him…

And now he had even taken away the joy of her toy battleship.  
Stannis sighed heavily and closed his eyes. His heart was breaking and he wished he only knew what he could do to…

"You know what…" – he said suddenly – "You want a battleship? You'll get one"

"What do you mean?" – Shireen looked up with interest.

"I'll build you one"

"You mean… a real one?" – she gasped happily.

"Aye. A real one. I'll draw up all the plans and you will choose the name and the figure head"

"And my ship will sail in your fleet?" – Shireen asked, her little eyes lighting up.

"Of course"

"Can you make it a big galley? So that it would be like the 'Fury'?"

"If you like" – he smiled – "Or, even better, I'll build you a galleon"

"What's a galleon?"

"It's a new kind of ship. The dragonstone master – shipwrights and I have been working on the design for the past few years. It combines the best qualities of the swanships from the Summer Isles, carracks and galleys. It's a large ocean – going vessel with four masts, several decks and one row of oars. It's stable in the heaviest seas, very fast, agile and maneuverable"

"It sounds wonderful!"

"Would you like one? But I warn you, it won't be built for quite a while. At least eight months from the day we lay keel and we won't lay keel until all the… er… other work we're doing is complete"

"I don't mind!"

"Very well then. You'll think of a name and draw me a picture of what you'd like for a figurehead as soon as you can"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" - Shireen squealed delightedly and hugged her father tightly. This time he hugged her back.


	8. Chapter 8

Stannis smelled the wind and tasted it and felt the fresh salty sea with no sign of land.  
The "Fury" rocked and swayed slightly as she rode the playful waves of Blackwater bay, a strong northeast wind in her sails. The sea favored her and she was making good time.  
Good enough time. For a galley, Stannis thought grumpily. Even with a favorable wind and the oarsmen rowing day and night it took his flagship no less than three days to get from Dragonstone to the capital. His present flagship, anyway… But she will not retain that status for much longer if all goes according to plan, Stannis mused as he listened to the faint sound of slow, rhythmic drumming leaking from below deck. Galleys have reigned supreme over the world for centuries, but the fastest and mightiest of them are quite slow and not really seaworthy. Too many men to feed, too much water leaking in during storms, all very well for coastal waters and relatively calm seas, but helpless against the open ocean. And it's high time for man to face the ocean and find out what lies beyond the edge of the known world. Soon enough, the 'Fury' and her kind will pass on into history and the oceans of the world will be ruled by bigger and better ships. Swift and agile, yet solid and reliable. Ships that will someday circumnavigate the globe.  
My ships, Stannis said to himself contentedly.

Suddenly a wave larger than most hit the 'Fury'. She pitched and Stannis felt the cold spray of the sea on his face. He could almost feel the ship's displeasure at her master's faithless criticism. Wasn't he the one who built her the way she was? Didn't they fight and win many battles together?  
Aye, me'darlin' Stannis thought, speaking silently to the vessel as she was once again riding steadily on the water. You've served me well, but men are reckless, you know. We need to be. It is the only way for us to stay alive. We need to cross oceans and climb mountains and see what lies beyond that next turn; to dive deep into the mysteries around us and break them down into pieces we can understand; to strive for perfection and reach for the impossible. Otherwise we start getting comfortable and complacent. And complacency is as deadly as poison.

His lip curled into half a smile as he wiped the cold, salty water from his cheeks and fixed his eyes on the endless grey waste of the Blackwater. The sea had somewhat calmed down after the storm, but the sky was still covered in thick grey clouds.  
Not for long, Stannis thought as he watched a few seagulls, fat from a long and plentiful summer, ride the back of the wind, screeching happily and then settle down onto the water. That could only mean that the last traces of the long and cruel gale would soon be blown away and King's Landing would welcome the 'Fury' and her master with sunshine.

But what else might the capital welcome him with, Stannis wondered anxiously, turning his gaze from the horizon to watch two large white seagulls come down from the air and settle on the mast. An old sailor's sign of good luck. And Stannis was surely going to need all the luck he could muster.  
Ned Stark had written that the king was very excited to learn of his brother's victory and awaits him eagerly, but Stannis knew only too well how changeable Robert's mood was. And how vindictive his jealousy could be… But unfortunately and rather ironically, facing the king's displeasure was the least of Stannis' worries. The real challenge was keeping the Targaryen girl's fate and whereabouts a secret. It'll be hard enough to convince Robert of Daenerys' death since he hates and fears the Targaryen just a little less than he hates and fears the Lannisters, Stannis thought with a nasty chuckle. Renly, Ned Stark and Pycelle shouldn't be much of a problem, but it will surely take all of his skill and experience to maneuver around Varys and Littlefinger. Without a doubt those two lizards would give quite a lot to know what Stannis knew of the last true heir to the Iron Throne and they have definitely sent word to their spies to look for her as soon as they'd heard of the dragon. The question is, what will they do once they've obtained that knowledge. Such a powerful leverage in the hands of such masterful players would take the Game to a higher level than ever before and open endless possibilities.  
But what was their real game, Stannis asked himself for the thousandth time, turning his eyes back to the choppy, playful water stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was ridiculous to believe that either Varys or Littlefinger were merely serving the king and the realm as they claimed to do, no matter how seemingly convincing their actions were.  
What in the world could the Spider possibly want that he didn't have already? It wasn't any of the usual things like more gold or power or respect, that much Stannis knew. Could seeing a new face on the Iron Throne be his end goal?  
Ever since he arrived at King's Landing all those years ago, Varys'd been a staunch Targaryen loyalist and Stannis was convinced that both Robert and Arryn were fools to think he'd truly changed his allegiance. Even though Varys did everything in his power to prove himself faithful to his new masters…  
"Why wouldn't he be faithful? " – Arryn had reasoned – "Everything the Mad King ever gave the eunuch we have matched. He is a foreigner, so he has no ties to either house. The realm, for which he claims to care so much, is at peace again, even more so than before…"  
Why indeed, Stannis thought as once again he tried to counter the former Hand's logic. But, as always, there was nothing to be said against the notion, except that Stannis knew deep in his gut that Jon Arryn was wrong. Varys was too masterful a player to leave the smallest breath of doubt that every step he'd taken ever since Robert ascended the throne was for the new king's benefit. For seventeen years Varys had labored tirelessly to cement the realm and keep the very memory of the Little Dragons out of Westeros. And yet none of his or anyone else's spies ever managed to destroy them. Not even after the eunuch had very accurately listed all the good and logical reasons why it needed to be done. Strange for the Spider to miss a kill, almost unheard of. Strange for his spy to betray him, especially after being promised a full royal pardon… Too strange…  
For years all Stannis could or really needed to do was reflect and wonder. But now that Daenerys is supposed to be dead or gone, has finally come a perfect opportunity to see if the intricate and shadowy road of the Spider was going the other way after all, Stannis thought deviously…

And as for Baelish… Stannis ground his teeth without even noticing as he thought of the man who was the most benign and yet by far the most dangerous member of the Small Council.  
Grinding his teeth was a bad and, according to Selyse, very annoying habit Stannis'd picked up as a boy, who used to chew on quills as he concentrated hard on drawing a tricky map or solving a difficult mathematics problem. And Petyr Baelish was the most difficult problem Stannis had ever had and perhaps would ever encounter.

Smart and amiable, Littlefinger seemed like an ordinary clerk with an extraordinary ability to make money out of thin air. His reputation spotless, Baelish was friends with everyone who was anyone and always had a smile and a purse full of gold ready for anyone who needed them. A protégée of Jon Arryn, his rise to power was fulminant and, as even Stannis was forced to admit, rather well – deserved.  
Unlike most men at court, he understood that gold was far more valuable when it was put to work and never let a single golden dragon sleep idly in the vaults. He bought and sold, speculated and schemed and within three years increased the crown's incomes tenfold. A figure that allowed to pay off at least the percentage of Robert's godless debts, assured the king's and the Hand's complete trust in the Master of Coin's loyalty and genius and made him indispensable.  
But, as Stannis had the misfortune to know and understand, there was one problem with Littlefinger's cure – all policy, the same problem all panaceas have - they don't exist. All they are is smoke and mirrors, convincing just enough to cover up the truth…  
Being the Master of Ships, in control of every port and vessel in the seven kingdoms, Stannis could naturally obtain all the information he needed on many of the Master of Coin's public and unofficial deals through transit and shipping details. Even contraband, thanks to Davos. And being deeply involved in investments and trade on his own little island for more than fifteen years, by now Stannis had a fairly good idea of what that brilliant bastard Littlefinger was actually doing. And unfortunately, there was no novelty or magic in his policies. He did exactly what his predecessors have been doing for centuries – squeeze the gold out of smallfolk, merchants, craftsmen and traders. But, unlike everyone else, Baelish went far beyond simply raising trade, shipping and import taxes like he first did in Gulltown. Oh, no! Littlefinger had developed a truly wondrous variety of intricate ways of conjuring up gold from thin air. He used the same money to buy and sell posts and favors, give and repay loans. He bankrupted entire households with lies and promises and collected immense interest along the way. But worst of all, he seemed to be quite frequently engaged in treacherous price – schemes that involved a select few foreign, mostly lysane, merchants and hurt the lesser lords, tradesmen and, most of all, the smallfolk of Westeros. Each one of them was bolder and more rapacious than the one before, but the last scheme must have truly been the pinnacle of the Master of Coin's short yet distinguished career.  
Baelish'd bought grain at a low price when it was plentiful, secretly harbored it abroad almost for free and then imported it at a huge profit, when after two bad harvests, bread was scarce. Naturally, increased importing taxes and increased prices meant sky-high revenues for the crown and the other authors of the scheme. It also meant ruination and disaster for many merchants, tradesmen and, most of all, smallfolk, many of whom were on the verge of starvation. And as a result, the granaries were empty, both foreign and internal trade damaged and a good half of Westeros secretly up to their neck in debt.

There was little doubt that the ingenious and benevolent Master of Coin was doing his best to stay in favor with the crown, while slowly and wisely pulling the realm into bankruptcy. But the goals and reasons behind that intrigue were as mysterious to Stannis as the dark side of the moon. Was Littlefinger trying to fill his own pockets and establish a net of supporters, bound to him through debt? Very likely, but to what point and purpose? He couldn't possibly loan all those in need. Not even a tenth of them. So who was he really working for? There were two families who stood to gain most from forcing the better half of Westeros into debt. Two of the richest houses in the land that could credit the rest of it - Lannister and Tyrell. But why would either of them want to force so many reluctant alliances? Or take the risk of trusting Littlefinger and his methods? Why would they need to? How are they going to avoid default, famine and inevitable riots? What in the seven hells are they planning? And what exactly was the recent unexpected and risky tax raise for? Doubtless Baelish was the real mastermind behind it, Stannis thought angrily as he practically heard the Master of Coin's gentle whispers ringing in his brother's ears. Why are Littlefinger and those behind him in a hurry?

Stannis sighed heavily, then checked and rechecked the wind. If it should hold, they'll reach King's Landing by midday.

"Put her into the wind" – Stannis told the helmsman.

"Yes, my lord"

There could only be one explanation for all of the above, Stannis thought gloomily as he turned around and headed slowly off the bridge towards his captain's quarters, his head spinning with suppositions and arguments. If only he could find the center of the web, the intrigue would unfold right before his eyes… All he needed was just a tiny piece of information that would make everything fall into place. Preferably, obtained before his closest foe and most dangerous friend, as Stannis liked to joke, discovered Stannis' own little secret…

The faint sound of bells chiming midday accompanied by the stomach – turning smell of King's Landing's legendary sewers tickled Stannis' senses as he came aloft.  
The "Fury" was floating lazily on the shoals just outside the harbor, her sails folded. The sailors were fussing around on the upper and lower decks, preparing to launch a longboat and lower the starboard anchor while the oarsmen were racking the starboard oars.  
That could only mean one thing… Robert wasn't going to allow his detested younger brother to bring the dragon's head into the harbor and, Gods forbid, take it to the Red Keep through the city streets.

Let the games begin, Stannis thought to himself feeling slightly bitter, although he hadn't really expected anything else. Letting him parade the trophy through the streets all by himself was far too generous for Robert, who never acknowledged any of this brother's victories. Storm's End, Dragonstone, Fair Isle… every one of those difficult battles turned hard - won victories was crucial for the king's ultimate triumph. Robert knew that all too well. With each new achievement the Master of Ships became more vital and thus more dangerous to the crown and it's power. And Robert hated and feared his younger brother almost as much as he did Daenerys and Tywin Lannister and did everything in his power to hinder his position.  
That's why he gave him that little spit of rock to rule instead of the vast and rich Stormlands, Stannis thought bitterly as he ground his teeth again. That's why he married him to Selyse, the stupid and ugly daughter of Ryam Florent, a lesser knight of one of the lesser houses of the Reach…

But, as always, the Master of Ships was fully prepared and rather eager to take on anything the king and the capital had in store for him. Because, treacherous and deadly as the Game of Power was and reluctant as Stannis was to admit it even to himself, he loved it. And he knew it well.  
Growing up at court as a page and a close friend of Rhaegars, for years Stannis watched the best minds of Westeros, especially Tywin Lannister, play with the fortunes of the world, planning futures and shaping history.  
And just like his royal and noble sworn brother, the better part of him had detested them for it.  
Stannis smiled with the corner of his mouth as he remembered the countless days and nights he and Rhaegar had spent berating the powers that be for their guile and improbity, dreaming of a perfect world and planning to build it with time and sweat and honesty.

Two naive children without a bloody clue, Stannis chuckled as he walked slowly across the upper deck, enjoying the blazing summer sun on his face.

But if Rhaegar's idealism had always been complete and genuine, Stannis'd be lying if he didn't admit that there was a part of him that even then, so early on in his life, secretly enjoyed watching the games of the mighty and trying to think like they did. A darker side of his soul, which relished in the sheer genius of the players and yearned for the games to go on. A hidden thirst for power and danger…  
For years Stannis hated himself for it and did his best to bury it deep down in the blackest and remotest corners of his mind. Until he set it free and let it guide him through danger and treachery, when the youngster he was eighteen years ago embraced the Game for the first time.  
And now, as a grown man in a position of power, there were few things in this world Stannis found more thrilling or rewarding than playing the Game. Especially since he did his best to always champion the cause he truly believed to be right. The responsibility was crushing, the work was hard and defeat was painful and dangerous to many more than himself, but that made the fight even more fierce and victory even sweeter.

"Clifton, what in the Seven Hells is going on here?" – Stannis grumbled as he walked onto the bridge. Immediately, his first mate put down the Myrish Eye he was holding to his right eye and saluted the admiral – "I don't recall ordering a longboat launched"

"No, my lord. But the watchtower's signaled that by order of the king, you're to come ashore at the foot of the Red Keep" – ser Harvey replied with a barely detectable note of scorn in his deep, booming voice.

"So I see" – Stannis huffed as he looked at one of the towers, standing at the top of the steep, red rocks, guarding the mouth of the Keep's private harbor. A barely noticeable light was flickering at the top window, sending its message down to the water in the old language of the sailors.

Stannis took the myrish eye from Clifton and unfolded it. The bright midday sun stung his eye as it bounced off the restless water and into the ingenious system of lenses that could bring anything, even the stars, closer to its master. Invented by a myrish craftsman named Leven less than fifty years ago, the Far – Eye proved itself to be invaluable to scientists and sailors both. And could even be used for the disreputable purpose of watching certain things that normally no one was supposed to see as Stannis found out when he'd caught some of his officers peering into the windows of a few pretty court ladies…

As he raised his enhanced gaze form the water, Stannis saw that the dock was already filled to the brim with a colorful crowd of gapers. And more and more people seemed to be pouring into the harbor by the second, no doubt lured by rumors of the wonder aboard the approaching flagship. The air was almost visibly charged with excitement and anticipation and for a moment Stannis was almost glad he'd been spared the exhilarating, yet tedious task of facing the madding crowd.  
Then, his gaze traveled far to the right, across the bay to the small, private beach at the foot of the Red Keep. It could only be used by members of the royal family and, to Robert's silent satisfaction, Stannis made a point to never ever set foot on it out of pure, spiteful principle. But an order was an order…  
The secluded rocky shore wasn't nearly as crowded as the docks at the city harbor. Stannis counted ten rather blurred figures of men, wearing simple leather doublets rather than shiny armor. Northmen. A few yards in front of them stood a single solitary figure. There could be no mistaking the dignified, confident posture of lord Eddard Stark, Hand of the King and Warden of the North.  
Stannis cursed under his breath as he gave the far – eye back to Clifton and wondered if he'd been correct in estimating Littlefinger as the most benign, yet most dangerous member of the Small Council. And as the biggest problem he'd ever had…

"Lord Dragonslayer!" – Eddard Stark called with a genuinely happy smile on his long, solemn face as the longboat glided onto the rocky shore – "I am truly honored to bid you welcome, my friend"

Stannis ground his teeth and jumped out of the boat, silently hurling curses at the man. Honest, honorable, inexperienced at politics and not particularly bright, Ned Stark had been nothing but a damn nuisance ever since he set foot in capital. Not just because he was completely oblivious of the court games of blood and power and more readable than an open book. His innate nobility, genuine goodness and sincere ingenuousness somehow made it very difficult for Stannis to manipulate him. No matter how much he tried to detach himself and remember all the grief and injustice he'd suffered from Robert partly because of his affection for Ned, Stannis just couldn't help feeling guilty about playing the only good man in the capital. Far worse than that, he couldn't help feeling protective of the new Hand, as though he were a defenseless child thrown into a pit of vipers. Sentiments that Stannis could ill afford.

"My lord Hand" – the Master of Ships replied courteously as he walked out of the water and bowed – "Are you teasing me?"

"I wouldn't dare" – Ned replied genially as he waved his men to help Stannis' sailors beach the boat and get the enormous, honey - covered trophy inside – "I'm merely calling you by your new title. The King plans to grant it to you once you walk through the doors of the throne room and lay the beast's head before the Iron Throne. I cannot tell you how pleased he was, when we received the news…"

I bet he was, Stannis snorted quietly. How typical of his brother to grant a pompous, useless title and hinder where it really hurts. Another fact poor Stark was obviously blind to.

"… so was I" – Ned continued, eyeing the dragon's head curiously as the soldiers and sailors were struggling to get it out of the boat – "Although, I must confess, the head's a bit larger than I expected… Truly magnificent!"

There was no deceit or fawning in the Hand's voice. No ulterior motives or guile in his eyes. Just admiration and sincere happiness for a man he foolishly considered to be his friend.  
Stark really is as pleased as if it were himself who had killed the dragon, Stannis thought with a pang of remorse and a silent curse, wishing to goodness Eddard had been one of the players. Somehow it was easier to live among vipers, ready and waiting to attack. There was no hypocrisy in the Game – kill or be killed and everyone knew it. Everyone, but Ned.

"Sweet of my brother to grant me such an honorary title" – Stannis replied ironically with a twitch of his lips – "Although I'd be a lot more grateful if he'd leave my fleets alone instead"

Ned let out a heavy sigh and lowered his eyes as the smile on his face faded.

"That, I'm afraid, he's not willing to do" – he replied gravely, forgetting all about the dragon's head that the men had finally managed to bring ashore – "He seems convinced that that extortionate tax scheme is the only way out of the predicament we now find ourselves in. I've done my best to reason with him, but he will not budge"

"Of course not" – Stannis grumbled.  
And why would he? It was unheard of for Robert to consider any matter of state except planning tourneys and murdering Targaryens worthy of royal attention. Or to actually use his own head to solve a problem. Especially when there is such a brilliant little counselor as Baelish close at hand.

"Did he at least say anything about the tourney he wanted for his nameday?"

"Preparations as planned" – Ned replied grievously as he turned around and slowly started walking towards the Red Keep, gesturing Stannis to follow – "Grand and expensive as ever. And to make matters worse, he's ordered a grand feast to be held tonight. To celebrate the royal victory over the dragon"

"Royal, eh?" – Stannis huffed scornfully, his blood starting to race with anger.

"That is what he said" – Ned nodded with a sigh, looking rather embarrassed – "A feast today and a melee starting tomorrow. With costly prizes and the dragon's head on open display"

A demonstration of strength he doesn't have and cannot afford, Stannis thought spitefully.  
"Well… maybe that's not all bad news" – he said outloud, trying to sound reassuring for some strange reason – "A melee with the head on display'll bring quite a crowd and hence a bit of gold. Both to the crown and to the tradesmen of King's Landing"

"Aye, that's what Littlefinger said" – Ned chuckled sadly – "But the celebration's too costly even with the expected revenues. We just cannot afford it"

"Aye" – Stannis shrugged his shoulders.

"Unfortunately, Robert doesn't see it in that light" – the Hand continued a bit resentfully - "He's dead - set on going through with his plans and apparently there's nothing I can say or do to make him change his mind"

What a bloody surprise, Stannis snorted to himself, rolling his eyes.

"I sometimes wonder why Robert chose me for his Hand if he doesn't listen to anything I say"

"Not your fault" – Stannis said reluctantly, not at all enjoying Ned's sudden and unwelcome show of trust and frankness – "Robert was never one to miss his fun as well you know"

"When I first arrived I couldn't fathom how Jon Arryn could've allowed the present crisis to happen" – Ned said gravely - Now I'm sorry to say that I'm beginning to understand"

No, lord Stark, Stannis thought silently as he shook his head. You're not even close to understanding. And I doubt you'll see your beloved friend for what he truly is before it is too late for you.

"The Mad King left the treasury chock – full of golden dragons, taxes were fair and incomes steady. For the life of me I couldn't understand where all the gold went" – the Hand continued as he and his companion slowly approached the gates of the keep.  
The guards saluted the lords, but their eyes were fixed on the dragon's head that Ned's soldiers and Stannis' sailors were carrying behind.

"Neither could Arryn" – Stannis chuckled deviously, hating himself as he decided to reciprocate Stark's honesty and help him understand, if only just a little – "But Littlefinger might. And as for Aerys' gold… That, my friend, might be a very good question to ask Tywin Lannister"

"What?!" – Ned gasped in shock – "You mean, Tywin Lannister stole the Mad King's gold? And you know this for a fact?!"

"No, Stark, I mean that it might be a good idea for you to think about. Quietly and privately" - Stannis replied, cursing the Hand up hill and down dale.

"Of course" – Ned nodded knowingly. Stannis obviously knew more than he cared to share, but no one, not even the king could openly make such serious accusations without proof. Especially since it was the king's own father in law being accused of high treason – "Thank you, my friend. I'll consider what you said very carefully"

"Please do"– Stannis replied, hoping to fuck, Ned'd have the sense not to confront any of the Lannisters, especially Cersei. Or that he'd be there to stop him - "And I'd also like you to consider that the crown owed Lannister quite bit since Tywin'd paid off the Iron Bank with his own gold. It's one thing for a friend and the Hand to take such a burden upon himself. But after Aerys'd taken Jaime Lannister into the Kingsguard and Tywin'd resigned things were obviously different"

"Naturally"

"And war is a good time to settle any financial disputes"

Settle disputes… or annul them!  
Stannis' heart skipped a beat as the realization hit him. So that's what Littlefinger were planning. War! For what? Power, naturally. With whom? Robert and the Lannisters were the obvious enemy. So, Littlefinger was most likely in league with Mace Tyrell. Wasn't house Tyrell one of the crown's biggest creditors? Weren't they Littlefinger's main trading partners?  
It was so obvious, Stannis berated himself for not having figured it out straight away. So that's what the entire intrigue is about! A coup d'etat! The Tyrells and Littlefinger force half of Westeros into debt and offer their debtors complete financial freedom in return for their support. Naturally most would accept such an offer since everyone knows they won't get any leniency from the Lannisters and most men would rather commit treason than starve. Thus the conspirators will have secured an army that Randyll Tarly could lead to victory.  
But who were they planning to overthrow, Stannis wondered as he walked beside the Hand through the courtyards, galleries and corridors of the Red Keep, hardly acknowledging the excited stares and endless compliments of household knights, lesser courtiers and even servants.  
The thrill of wonder and victory was just as thick and electric at the palace as it was at the harbor and before Stannis knew it, a large crowd was following the dragon's head as their party made its way to the Great Hall and the Throne Room. Usually Stannis would've shooed them away since he didn't enjoy all the fawning, flattery and adulation. But today was special. After all, no one in Westeros had seen a dragon or even a part of it for years. And he was too caught up in the Game to notice the crowd or to care.

Was it just the Lannisters the Tyrells were after or both them and Robert? Doesn't really matter since either way Robert would be a mere pawn. Without the Lannisters, he has no real power. And he isn't a threat. If Tarly were to meet Robert in the field, he'd surely win. If Tywin Lannister were to do so, the outcome would be equally undoubtful. So, just like Arryn, both parties would obviously put Robert well away from the commanding tent and on the front lines, where he belongs.  
But if Tarly were to take the field against Lannister, even Stannis wouldn't hazard a guess as to the outcome. And it wasn't just the outcome of a hypothetical battle he was uncertain of. The Lannisters and the Tyrells were a match for each other. In influence, money, cunning, strength, marshal prowess… everything!  
That's why at least one of them will inevitably turn their gaze to me, Stannis thought with an excited and satisfied smile, feeling his heart pounding wildly against his clothing. That's what Littlefinger's tax and fleet scheme is about. None of the captains in Westeros are a match for me on the sea and I could beat both Tarly and Lannister on land. Especially with the other one at my side. So the conspirators will either try to destroy me completely or weaken my position just enough for me to be open to negotiation. But since Littlefinger is way too smart to actually believe that I'd stay with Robert until the death like Ned Stark…

"Pardon?" – Stannis jumped as he realized that their party had finally stopped in front on the enormous oak – and - metal gates of the throne room Stark and the was staring at him expectantly.

"You're not listening to me, are you?" – Ned asked with a smile.

"Forgive me, my lord, I…" – Stannis replied, trying to focus on the present.

"It's all right. I'll leave you to it, then" – Stark said genially, giving his friend a pat on the shoulder.

"Where're you going?" – Stannis asked, lifting his eyebrows in surprise as Ned turned away and headed towards the side door, which led to one of the galleries in the throne room.

"I told you, you're going in alone. I don't care what Robert says, I'm not claiming credit for anything I didn't do" – Ned replied and quickly disappeared behind the small door.

Damn Stark and his bloody honor and damn Robert, who doesn't deserve his loyalty, Stannis grumbled to himself as he stood in front of the beautifully decorated doors, waiting to be announced.  
And damn me if I don't at least try to help the man avoid the upcoming overturn. He'd never have the brain or skills to come out dry from that swill. Especially if the Tyrells are working for Daenerys. They'd always been staunch Targaryen supporters, so they'd naturally be the first she'd turn to.  
Was it possible for her to be the main force behind that intricate and masterful plot, Stannis wondered looking perfectly calm, even indifferent, but feeling no less exhilarated than the men around him.  
Is that why she flew all the way from Meereen so suddenly?  
What a woman, Stannis thought, feeling almost aroused as he imagined the gorgeous and brilliant princess at a secret parlay with an emissary from her long lost home. Was she really so brave and foolhardy to believe she could take both Slaver's Bay and Westeros? Or was she planning an escape after she understood her cause in Slaver's Bay was hopeless?  
Probably neither, since she clearly didn't expect to land in Westeros. Not just Dragonstone, but Westeros, he countered, remembering how shocked the girl was to hear the word 'maester' and trying his best to calm down. Perhaps her coming just at this time was a remarkable coincidence. And in life, coincidences do happen… and are sometimes known as fate…

Finally the enormous heavy doors opened with a loud rumble. A thick and heave silence hit Stannis' ears as it rolled out of the throne room and quickly covered every corner of the keep. His muscles tensed as he felt hundreds of keen, curious eyes, staring at him from every corner of the vast and beautiful throne room. And suddenly he felt like the scared and shy seven year old boy he was when he entered that room for the first time.

"Remember, lads, move calmly and slowly, don't look around and kneel three yards before the steps" – lord Steffon had told his sons as he patted their heads and straightened their little doublets.

Stannis' lips twitched into a sad little smile as he remembered himself trying to walk slowly and keep up with his father at the same time as they made their way towards the Iron Throne. How funny he must've looked. He could see the courtiers smile and whisper among themselves out of the corner of his eye, but he was too scared to turn around and look at them. He was too scared to look up, so he kept staring at the floor, trying to seem invisible. Until something he barely noticed out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A strange and twisted little scull standing on a small plinth. It was long and thin with black hollow slits for eyes and long milky – white fangs. And then another one, and another, each larger than the last. Stannis' little heart stopped beating as the realization hit his brain. Dragonskulls!  
All his life he'd been mad about dragons, devouring dragonlore books as soon as he could read high valyrian and making his grandmother the princess Rhaelle tell him stories about them over and over again. And now that he was finally looking at the live, stony legacy of Old Valyria, nothing else in the world existed for him. The throne, the crowd of courtiers and his father's instructions were all far away and completely forgotten… But then a sudden and sharp hit of Robert's elbow brought him back to the present.  
Jumping with fright, Stannis realized his father had stopped right in front of the enormous platform steps and he'd almost bumped into his back.  
Emboldened and curious, Stannis lifted his eyes to the top of the platform. And what he saw was even more impressive and breathtaking than the enormous dragon sculls and the shining golden armor of the Kingsguard, standing on both sides of the staircase. Grand and ominous, the Iron Throne overhung the room like a twisted, ugly and asymmetric monster made of spikes and melted metal. And on its seat was the most regal, majestic and stately man little Stannis had ever seen. Or seen since, if he was being honest.  
Garbed in fine yet simple red leather that clung closely to his tall and strong frame, the man seemed to radiate innate power and calm majesty. His head was bald, except for the thick and bushy golden side-whiskers, his features handsome and finely – cut. His cold, gold – flecked green eyes oozed shrewd intelligence and seemed to penetrate the soul and strike fear into the heart of anyone who was unfortunate enough to appear before them. He wore no crown or any kind of distinction, but there could be no doubt that he was the king. Because that is what kings look like, thought little Stannis as he remembered all the stories and legends he'd ever heard.  
For a moment he and Robert stood silently behind lord Steffon, expecting him to kneel, but, strangely, he didn't.

"My lord Hand" – lord Steffon said with a courteous bow.

Hand?! Stannis gasped quietly not quite believing his ears. So this was just the Hand and not the King himself?! Feeling completely taken aback, he looked helplessly at Robert. But he seemed to be unmoved by the busy staring at the Kingsguards glittering armor and beautiful longswords.

"Lord Baratheon" – came the deep and soft, yet none the less powerful voice of the Hand as a barely detectable smile appeared in the corners of his mouth – "I am pleased to welcome you to the capital, my dear friend"

"Thank you, Tywin. I'm very happy to see you again. It's been way too long" – Steffon replied. Stannis couldn't see his face, but somehow he knew that his father was smiling.

"It has indeed" – the Hand said as he got up from the Iron Throne and started walking down the high stone steps. His movements soft, confident and graceful.  
When he finally came down, he embraced lord Steffon warmly.

"You're not alone, I see" – lord Tywin said and the corners of his mouth curled up even more as he looked down at Robert and Stannis – "So these are the young men who are to serve as the king's new pages"

"Aye" – lord Steffon smiled proudly.  
"This is Robert, my heir" – he said, placing a hand on Robert's shoulder.

"You like the Kingsguard's armor young man?" – lord Tywin asked genially.

"Yes" – Robert answered rather absently as he gave the Hand a quick glance and turned his gaze back to one of the guards. A great, strong man, whose name as Stannis later discovered, was ser Gerold Hightower.

"Would you like to serve as one of them one day?"

"No. I don't want to serve" – the lad replied rather defiantly – "I want to fight"

"Hold your tongue! How dare you?!" – lord Steffon snapped angrily.

"I see your heir takes after you, my dear Steffon" – lord Tywin replied with a strange look little Stannis couldn't quite interpret, but later understood to be irony – "How many times have you refused to serve on the Small Council?"

"Quite a few" – Steffon shrugged his shoulders, looking completely embarrassed.

"And this is young Stannis, I take it" – the Hand continued, turning his piercing gaze to the boy. Stannis shrugged as the cold green eyes met his own – "Last time I saw you, you were still in your cradle. Do you find the Kingsguard as unappealing as your brother does?"

"No, ser… I mean, yes ser…" – the lad stuttered meekly. A quiet giggle rumbled through the crowd of courtiers and echoed through the room. Stannis felt himself blush as lord Tywin lifted an eyebrow at him.

"I like the Kingsguard, but I like the dragon sculls better" – he explained, looking shyly up at the Hand.

"Interested in dragons, are you?" – Tywin asked searchingly.

"Yes, my lord"

"My mother is to be thanked for that" – said lord Steffon, rolling his eyes – "Always telling him stories of great dragonlords and their unbeatable beasts"

"Hardly surprising for a Targaryen" – Tywin replied with a barely audible chuckle.

"Dragons aren't unbeatable" – Stannis blurted out suddenly forgetting himself, his fear and manners completely carried away on the wings of his favorite heroes. Both men looked down at him in surprise and little Stannis went beetroot as his father's face became stern and angry. He looked down meekly, feeling utterly ashamed of himself and praying for the floor to miraculously open up and swallow him whole.

"You think so?" – the Hand asked searchingly – "The seven kingdoms were conquered with dragonfire and kept together with dragonfire"

"Forgive me, my lord, but six kingdoms were conquered with dragonfire" – Stannis answered quietly, not daring to look up and face the Hand's intense gaze – "Dorne was never conquered by any of the dragonlords"

"That is correct" – said Tywin as he placed a finger under Stannis' chin and lifted his eyes - "And why do you think that is?"

"Because they were too smart to fight Aegon's armies and dragons openly. And they knew how to use their lands to their advantage" – the boy replied, his heart caught up in his throat, not knowing what to expect and afraid he might've said something wrong. But to Stannis' astonishment, the Hand smiled and nodded his agreement.

"Never ever hide that face again, boy" – he continued, letting go of Stannis' chin - "This one's the smart one in the family, eh, Baratheon?"

"It would seem so" – lord Steffon chuckled.

"I want to be like him!" – Stannis thought breathlessly as he continued to stare into the lord Hand's eyes, once again forgetting all about the throne room and rustling whispers of the courtiers – "One day, I want to be like him…"

But the dream of Tywin's deep, gold – flecked eyes and the happy years the young lordling'd spent at court melted away as the present – day Stannis Baratheon finally stopped his slow and dignified motion towards the Iron Throne. Exactly three yards before the first step. Just as his father had done on that first day. Just as he himself had done countless times in another life, another world, remote and far away. A world where Rhaegar was his friend, Aerys his king and Tywin Lannister his secret idol. A world long gone… shattered to pieces by vile mistakes, terrible stupidity, unforgivable treachery and inhuman cruelty. Some of which were his own…  
Stannis sighed heavily as all the thrill and excitement he felt only a few moments ago disappeared, making way for helpless longing and bitter regret…  
He sank on one knee, staring blankly onto the high stone steps of the platform and listening to the endless buzzing of the lazy and curious court.  
After all these years everything around him seemed to stay the same and yet completely different. The steps were no less high, but they looked bare as there were no dragon sculls to flank them. The Kingsguard's cloaks and armor were the same, but the spirit of that old, honorable order was long since dead as there were no true knights left in it. And, finally, the Iron Throne… Grim and majestic as ever, but the man on its seat was so much lesser than the one Stannis'd seen on that first day. A great doughy lump, cursed with stupidity, numbed with indifference and stunned with wine…

Oh, gods, how did we end up here, Stannis groaned silently, lifting his eyes to see the king's face and feeling a rush of excited whispers erupt from the crowd of courtiers as the dragon's head was placed on the stone floor behind him with a dull thud.  
To his surprise, there seemed to be a pleased and proud smile on his brother's face. His back was straighter than usual and his posture stronger and more regal than Stannis'd seen in a long time. To the king's right stood the New Hand, smiling as happily as he did on the beach. Behind him were the rest of the Small Council. To the king's left stood Joffrey, the bastard heir to the throne. And next to him Myrcella, the sweet and gentle girl, who Stannis wasn't really opposed to calling his niece. Her pretty little face lit up with innocent curiosity and her little hand clutching the plump fingers of her younger brother Tommen, who seemed to be afraid of the beast's head. The queen, however, was strangely absent.

"Your grace!" – Stannis heard himself say, his voice sounding odd and distant as if coming from afar– "I have the honor to present to you the head of the dragon, killed in your name by the soldiers and sailors of Dragonstone. May their sacrifice bring peace to the realm and glory to its rightful leader"

"Indeed it will, brother. Indeed it will" – the king replied solemnly – "Their sacrifice shall be honored and remembered for as long as men have voices to sing. As shall be every triumph of good and righteous men over the vile beasts and those who dare to ride them!"

Exactly who is he referring to as good and righteous, Stannis though indignantly.

"May the fallen rest in peace an honor. It is my wish that their families shall know no want for anything for as long as their lines will last…"

That goes without saying, Stannis huffed. But you won't lift a finger for them since you know I've already taken care of that, will you?!

"It is also my wish that every injured soldier shall be granted a pension, which will allow him to live out all his remaining days peacefully. And that every man still in the ranks be granted a knighthood if he is not a knight and lands to come with it"

The knighthood is all very well and the land is even better, but where exactly is it going to come from, Stannis chuckled deviously. I don't have any more rocks to give away, so it'll most likely be Renly's. Now that is good news indeed!

"And finally" – Robert continued with a slight nod and a jolly wink – "To you, my brother and my admiral, I, Robert of the house Baratheon, first of my name, the rightful king of the andals and the first men, lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm do hereby grant the title of 'Dragonslayer'. To be worn proudly and hailed across the land for as long as you live"


	9. Chapter 9

"Gods, that was a fine fight! A damn fine fight!"

The booming of Robert's soldierly voice shook the walls of the Small Council chamber after Stannis'd finished his brief, but detailed report on the battle with the dragon.

"Damn, I wish I was with you"– the king continued excitedly, banging his great fist on the immaculately polished oak table - "We'd have had a grand ol' time with that thing, eh, Ned? Just like in the old days! The enemy right before us, vicious as the seventh pit of hell, all but sending us a bloody invitation to kill it!"

"Grand time indeed!" – Renly huffed indignantly, his young pretty face wrinkled into a mask of disgust – "A hundred and fifteen men burned alive… Yes, I suppose it does seem as grand as the good old days when one half of Westeros fought the other half and millions died! Or even grander days before that, when the Mad King burned whoever the voices in his head told him to kill…"

"Enough!" – roared Robert slamming his fist mightily onto the long – suffering tabletop – "How dare you, boy?! You may be my brother, but you will do well to remember that you're in the presence of your King"

"How could anyone forget that, you grace?" – Renly hissed, naturally implying the constant stench of sweat and wine that accompanied the king everywhere he went. He even felt himself angry and outraged enough to say that much out loud.

All his life Renly'd detested battle and death and where others saw heroism, he saw nothing but cruelty. He was a child of peace, who had seen quite enoung of war when Storm's End was under siege. He usually refused to willingly associate himself with any military matters and got branded a coward for it. But he didn't really mind…  
Renly inhaled deeply and opened his mouth, determined to give Robert a piece of his mind, crown or no crown, but was suddenly stopped by a strong and calm hand that descended heavily on his arm. Stannis!

Renly cursed inwardly. From the very first years of his life it was always Stannis. Lecturing him, rearing him and telling him what to do, what not to do and wanting him to be dull and quiet. He never approved of Renly and spoiled all the fun with his cold sobriety. Even now that Renly was a grown man and Warden of the Stormlands, he still felt Stannis was in charge and he was sick and tired of it!  
Renly turned around and glared crossly at his older brother, who was sitting next to him at the Small Council table. Stannis' face was completely relaxed and passive, but Renly could feel his brother's eyes boring into him. And as usual, he suddenly felt that intense gaze starting to calm and restrain him. Like cold water calming and restraining some mad Summer Isles' wildling dancing around in a frenzy… Like a strict parent, disciplining his rowdy child…  
Renly felt a slight shiver run down his spine as he tried to fight his brother's intense stare. He'd always dreaded looking into the depth of Stannis' dark – blue eyes that made him feel like Stannis was reading his mind. Somehow they seemed so strange and alien and not at all like his own, light – green and playful and typical to the Baratheon family. Old uncle Estermont once told him that the shiny coldness in his older brother's eyes came from their dragonblooded grandmother. And sometimes Renly did feel as though he was a rabbit looking at a snake…

"Pray, forgive me, your grace" – Renly uttered sourly as he turned away from Stannis' gaze and looked sideways onto the beautiful tapestries that decorated the rather small, but pleasant room– "The splendor of war is often lost on me, as you know"

"Of course it's lost on you, boy" – Robert huffed dismissively, the offence immediately wiped from his memory by the much more alluring images of his own former glory – "You'll never understand what it is to cut your way through the ranks of the enemy, cracking sculls and smashing breastplates! Back in our day…"

Stannis sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead as he and the Small Council braced themselves for yet another one of Robert's long and detailed nostalgic rants about the grand and glorious days of the Rebellion.  
Days that were, alas, long gone. And with them the unity and prosperity of Westeros, the Targaryen dynasty and the best part of Robert, Stannis thought sadly as he looked at the constantly drunk, petty and obese man, whose biggest achievement was forever behind him, talking excitedly and never even noticing that no one cared to listen.  
And why should we, Stannis huffed resentfully. Earthy, humorous, silly and quite charming Robert was a man to be loved by the careless mob and the fools who thought they control it. But never to be respected or taken seriously by anyone with even half an ounce of intellect. He was a king with no real power, a hero with no true strength. From the very beginning, he'd always taken the easy road and was now sinking deep into the deadly swamp of comfort and complacency. And complacency is the easiest and the most lethal sin a man could allow. One that will end friendships, poison marriages, smother passion and finally destroy a man's life before he even knows it. Robert had grown so accustomed to his lazy and comfortable life filled with drinking, hunting and bedding women whose names he didn't care to know, he couldn't even see it draining all his strength, slowly ending his life and destroying his kingdom…  
And Renly is doing the same, Stannis sighed sadly as he turned his gaze to his younger brother, who was staring absently out the window. He was so young and spirited and light – hearted, the world should be his oyster. But for some reason Renly didn't seem to feel the yearning of reckless curiosity at all. He was content to spend his days having fun and wanted nothing more form life than passing pleasures. Just like Robert… And just like their parents…  
Both of his brothers truly were their parents' children, alike in looks, tastes, temper, everything, Stannis thought with a slight pang of jealousy. And he had always been the foreigner, who tried to fit in in his home, but never really could. If truth be told, deep down, Stannis'd always felt like he didn't belong there. Like he was supposed to be… somewhere else…  
"He's not of mine, that little bookworm" – lord Steffon used to joke affectionately, whenever Stannis was compared to Robert, who'd always been the center of attention and his father's favorite – "He didn't come from his mother's womb, he was washed up by the sea onto our doorstep. That's why his eyes are so blue…"

Perhaps he really was, Stannis smiled inwardly. And who ever would have thought he would be thankful for it. Because, as much as he'd loved his family and as much as he'd wanted to belong, when he grew up he didn't like that sort of men at all.

"I humbly beg forgiveness for interrupting your grace" – suddenly came the quiet and oily voice of the Spider – "But as your grace has mentioned the Targaryens… "

"What about them?" – blurted out Renly with a sigh of relief, only too glad to be saved from Robert's endless repetition of his old war stories.

"Only this morning I received word from my little birds in the far east that the princess Daenerys has disappeared from Meereen after a brutal attempt on her life was made by her enemies" – Varys replied softly – "As a matter of fact she was last seen in the Great Arena mounting her black dragon and flying off into the west…"

My, you are worried, Stannis thought to himself triumphantly as he watched the Spider's small, shrewd and rather kind eyes shift slightly faster than usual. So, you actually were Daenerys' man all along…

"If my lord Dragonslayer would care to make any comment…" – the eunuch continued cryptically.

Stannis felt a silence even thicker and heavier than the one in the throne room immediately drown the Small Council chamber and six pairs of eyes, some curious, some worried turn their gazes at him.

There could only be one reason for the eunuch asking him to state the obvious, Stannis thought deviously. He's really, really desperate at this point. So desperate, he'd risk exposing his secret to both me and that bastard Littlefinger.  
Perhaps I might give him a small clue, Stannis thought feeling very pleased with himself and therefore rather gracious.

"I'm afraid there's not much I can say on the subject, my lord Spider" – Stannis shrugged his shoulders - "It's been well known for centuries that the fire – geysers of mount Dragonmont make it very attractive for dragons, so it's hardly surprising that the beast came to Dragonstone. Many of the dragons that were hatched in King's Landing flew to the blasted mountain as well"

"That is indeed a well – known fact, my lord" – Varys nodded humbly, but no less dissatisfied.

Oh, come on, lord Spider, Stannis chuckled to himself mischievously. I go out of my way to give you subtle hints and you never notice them?

"Damn, now I wish I'd given you Storm's End after all, Stannis" – came Robert's jolly laugh – "Should've kept that blasted piece of rock for hunting the gods' – cursed beasts"

"I'm sure that castle Dragonstone would make a splendid hunting lodge, your grace" – Littlefinger said, looking at Stannis with a charming smile on his face and a taunting gleam in his eye. It was always a pleasure to annoy his greatest foe and rival. A pleasure neither of them never missed, if they could help it.

"I'm sure there's no need for lord Baelish's jokes, while we're discussing such serious matters" – Ned Stark intervened to Stannis' silent gratitude – "I believe lord Varys meant to ask about the princess Daenerys…"

"Oh, Ned, spoiling all me fun!" – Robert scolded genially – "Anyways, what about the bitch? If she'd made it to Dragonstone, her head would already be on a spike right next to her beast's. Right, brother?"

"Naturally, your grace" – Stannis nodded solemnly – "But I seriously doubt we'll hear from her anytime soon or indeed ever again. If my calculations are correct, it would take about four days for a dragon of that size to fly from Meereen to Dragonstone. The Targaryen obviously wasn't a very experienced rider, so she probably fell off its back. Most likely, when she fell asleep. Or the dragon might've left her somewhere in the wilderness along the way when he landed to rest. In any case the odds of her surviving that flight and getting back to Meereen alive are less than nonexistent"

Probably no higher than the odds of her hatching three dragon eggs, but she managed to do both anyway. Gods, what a woman! Stannis thought, feeling a rather treacherous glow warm in his soul as he remembered his secret guest.

"And even if she does somehow make it back to Meereen, she'll probably be captured and executed by the slavers" – he continued indifferently – "Her absence will surely catalyze the conflict between her followers and the rest of Slaver's Bay. I've no doubt they're already preparing to attack the city if not yet ramming the gates, especially since, as you say, there is no unity in the city itself"

"That is indeed accurate, my lord" – Varys said solemnly – "My little birds tell me the joint armies of Yunkai, Qarth, Tolos, Elyria and Mantarys are already encamped outside the city walls. However, Meereen is an ancient city that was able to withstand attacks from the Freehold itself. Our very own ser Barristan Selmy is in command of the defending host and the two remaining dragons have been set free. They have made lairs on top of pyramids and are sometimes seen flying over the city"

"Since the city is plagued by civil war, sickness and famine, they won't hold for long no matter who commands them" – Stannis replied – "And dragons cannot be controlled by anyone, but their riders, lord Varys, so there's no knowing how they will react, when the fighting begins. They might burn the city and both armies to the ground, fly east to Asshai or west to Dragonstone for all we know"

"Gods, let them come here!" – Robert exclaimed bellicosely – "We'll give them a grand ol' welcome!"

"I sincerely hope not, your grace" – Ned huffed, shaking his head – "We've seen enough of dragons in Westeros to last us eternity"

"Perhaps so, my lord Hand" – Stannis said, reclaiming initiative – "But no matter what happens to the dragons, I believe it is safe to say that Meereen shall fall within a few weeks, Slaver's Bay will be restored to its old way of life and the Targaryen dynasty will end, this time for good"

Seven fucking hells! – Stannis cursed silently as the clarity of the picture he'd just painted suddenly hit him. It was unforgivably stupid of him not to have thought of that when he brought her to the castle. Not that the notion would've changed his resolve, he'd have helped her in any case. But what in the world is the girl going to do when her city falls and she loses everything?! She has nowhere to go, no means to survive and no one to care for her except him…

"Good! Justice finally served for the the dragon – scum"– Robert replied with a maliciously satisfied smile on his face.

Perhaps it truly was the Gods or Fate or whatever that left Daenerys mendicant and brought her to my doorstep at the exact time there's a default and a turnover coming to Westeros, Stannis thought, feeling shivers going down his spine as he suddenly realized what exactly he was going to do with her…  
If there's going to be war and chaos anyway, he'd rather fight for someone, who was worth it. Someone, who cares about her people and understands that a crown, first and foremost, means responsibility.  
Perhaps… if the girl really is, who she seems to be and is truly worth the trouble…

"Aye. I believe it is safe to say that the Targaryen is no more" – Ned Stark sighed heavily, looking down at the floor.

"You say that as though that's not welcome news" – Robert grumbled, throwing his best friend a mean and angry look.

"It is welcome news for us in Westeros" – Ned replied gravely – "But a terrible tragedy to every slave from Lys to Asshai. From what I know, the princess Daenerys was an honorable, trueborn fighter, who chose to dedicate her life to saving millions of innocents from the despicable yoke of slavery…"

"You admire her" – Stannis stated, rather than asked, looking a bit stunned and not quite believing his ears. It was completely in Ned's character to respect and honor an enemy that deserved it, but by fuck, what in the seven hells was he thinking, saying all of that to Robert?!

"Aye, my lord" – Ned nodded calmly – "I admire her"

"Careful, Ned! Careful now!" – Robert hissed angrily – "What you're saying might be considered high treason"

"What the Hand is saying" – Stannis replied quickly before Stark had the chance to answer and make things any worse – "Might be considered high treason if it were coming from the mouth of a different man. And, as much as it grieves me to say this, your grace, there is no doubt it will be repeated by men, far less honorable than lord Stark…"

"Aye, that's why we're having the tourney" – the king grunted, still glaring daggers at the Hand, who stared right back at him, proud and strong.

"Yes, but a tourney might not be a sufficiently convincing demonstration of your strength, your grace" – Stannis continued oily.

"What d'you suggest then?"

"Armies and dragons have always been the might and pride of Westeros, but our navy, victorious as it is, is still quite young. I believe it would be beneficial for both the marshal strength and the image of the crown if the Royal Navy were to be provided with a new flagship. A galley larger and mightier than ever before. Naturally, to be named after his grace"

"That's not at a bad idea, brother" – Robert replied kindly, already relishing in the thought of such a vessel – "Not a bad idea at all. A ship like that would surely demonstrate that our power on the sea is as great as it is on land. Build it as soon as you can. I'll call it… 'The Hammer' or 'The king's hammer'. In honor of the Trident"

"It might also be good to build a few other smaller vessels to come with it" – Stannis continued calmly, rejoicing in the apparent success of his plan – "To level any future talk that might erupt when the people, especially the sailors, learn of any possible money issues the fleets might have"

"Yes, yes, yes, you may build as many ships as you like" – Robert replied impatiently – "You and Littlefinger can sort out all the coppers, I'm not going to waste my time on rubbish like that"

"As you wish, your grace" – Stannis replied as the corners of his mouth twitched into a satisfied grin.

"Nicely done, my lord Dragonslayer" – Littlefinger chuckled quietly.

"Now, sod the blasted council meeting, I've had enough for one day" – the king said, standing up heavily from his chair – "And I expect to see you all at the feast tonight. And don't even think of excusing yourself from this one, Stannis. I want you there. And you too, Ned"

"He's going to display that thing in the Grand Hall?!" – Renly gasped in horror and disgust as soon as the door of the chamber closed heavily behind the king – "This is insane!"

"Mm-hm" – Stannis huffed, as he exchanged annoyed glances with the Hand. If there was one thing they had in common, it was distaste for the loud and crowded feasting the king was so fond of.

That night every window in the Red Keep was ablaze as everyone at court was preparing for the grand victory feast. The very air of the castle was shivering with excitement as tables in the Great Hall were laid richly with countless sumptuous dishes, barrels of finest Arbor wine opened, scores of candles lit and musical instruments toned. The dais with the high table was decorated with flowers and black and golden ribbons. The gloriously carved old wooden buffets standing by the walls were covered with rich drape and held mountains of finest plates, knives and goblets of gold and silver, just waiting to be served.  
But the main ornament of the feast was, of course, the dragon's head. It had been cleaned, dried, oiled and placed upon a pedestal just behind the high table. An interesting and exotic distraction, it stopped the busy servants in their tracks and held their interest until one of the butlers or housekeepers came along to speed things up.  
The noble courtiers were just as busy getting ready for the feast as their low – born counterparts. Lysane and dornish silks, representing the colors of their houses, fine leather, gold and precious gems… only the very best garments that one could afford would do. According to tradition, created before time by men nobody knew of, those stones and fabrics were the standard by which all men were measured. And no one, not even the king's brother could afford to break tradition on a night like this. Alas…

"What are you staring at, lad? Is my nose bleeding or something?" – Stannis grumbled irritably, throwing a rather devious glance at his young squire, who was trying his best to be about his business and not stare at the lord as he was getting dressed, but failing at it miserably.

"No, my lord. Apologies, my lord" – Devan replied guiltily and tried to concentrate on tidying up his master's things which were only recently delivered from the ship. But treacherously, the boy's eyes leapt back to Stannis. In all his time as a squire, young Devan'd never seen his lord wear anything, but cotton, wool, mail and leather. He was first and foremost a warrior to who preferred safety and convenience to luxe and beauty. And it was almost incredible to see Stannis change his usual attire in favor of the soft and rich styles of a courtier. A style, which quite suited him and, although in Devan's eyes, his lord always looked regal… somehow made him seem even more so.

"Impressed with all the frippery, are we lad?" – Stannis chucked affectionately as he watched the curious youngster out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes, my lord" – Devan replied reluctantly, lowering his eyes.  
He didn't like to admit to anything his lord didn't approve of, bit he just couldn't help himself. He really was impressed with how lord Stannis looked in his pitch – black waistcoat and breeches of finest lysine silk that clung closely to his tall, lithe, shapely frame. The collar, borders and slashed sleeves of his doublet were tastefully embroidered with golden thread. The shiny – white silk of his shirt was visible through the slits of the doublet sleeves and under his still undone collar. His boots were also black and made of the softest leather Devan had ever touched.

"You look royal, ser" – he added honestly.

"Bring me the belt, will you" – Stannis told the lad as he fastened the beautifully ornamented golden buttons on his wastecoat. He never ever asked his squire to help him dress, not even to put on his armor, but right now young Seaworth was too amazed and curious to leave out.

"This one?" – Devan asked breathlessly as he held up a long, beautiful sash the like of which he'd never seen before. It seemed to be made of thick, but very soft leather that had some kind of strange scales on it. They looked like snakescales, but were much bigger. At first glance the belt seemed to be black, but Devan thought he saw flashes of dark – purple dancing in the dancing in the depth of the rich black. The buckle was made of gold and shaped like the head of something resembling a snake or a dragon. Devan vaguely remembered seeing a similar beast among the statues of Dragonstone.

"Aye. Like it?" – Stannis asked with a smile as Devan's curious fingers gently stroked the unfamiliar material.

"Yes, my lord, very much" – Devan replied, handing the belt to his master – "Is it made from some kind of snakeskin? I've never seen anything like it before"

"No, you didn't" – Stannis said cryptically as he fastened the beautiful sash around his waist, leaving a long loose end hanging down almost to his knees – "Only few men in the world have. It's made of wyvernskin"

"Wyvernskin?!" – Devan gasped in shock. From what he knew, wyverns were extremely rare and dangerous creatures that were first cousins to dragons. They plagued the dark and rocky shores of the Cinnamon straits in the Jade sea and hunted horses, wild cats and even, sometimes, men. At least that's what his father told him.

"It must be worth a fortune!" - the lad blurted out.

"Forgive me, my lord" – he continued meekly, immediately regretting his outburst – "I should never have…"

"It's all right, lad" – Stannis chuckled – "It is worth a fortune. Worth a little less than a small galley to be exact"

"A gift from one of your father's friends, as a matter of fact" – he continued with a smile as the boy's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets – "Salladhor Saan"

"The pirate king?" – Devan asked in surprise as he remembered the handsome, charming, dark – skinned rogue who was often a secret, yet none the less welcome guest in his father's house – "What did you do that made him so grateful?"

"That, my dear boy, is none of your business" – Stannis chuckled mischievously as he straightened his collar – "By the way, I believe you and Saan have a few things in common. You used to be a thief, right?"

"Yes, my lord" – the boy said grudgingly, twitching with discomfort – "But like my father, I've…"

"Has all my instruction been for naught?" – Stannis said didactically – "There's no such thing as a bad skill. Skills are just skills, what makes them good or bad is how you choose to use them. Understood?"

"Yes, ser"

"And, as it happens, right now I may have need of this particular skill"

"My lord?" – Devan asked, with peaked curiosity.

He'd always known that it was not beyond lord Stannis to deal with pirates, smugglers and other men of rather doubtful character when it suited him, but never in his wildest dreams did Devan think Stannis would actually ask him to steal something.

"Do you know who Hamish the Harper is, lad?" – the lord asked cryptically.

"Yes, ser" – the youngster answered, feeling the old mischievous thrill starting to warm his heart again.

"Do you know where he lives?"

"Aye"

"I need you to steal something from his chamber, bring it here and then take it to my cabin at the 'Fury'. Can you do that?"

"Of course, ser" – Devan huffed dismissively – "All the musicians are at the feast and the servants are all busy in the kitchens and the Hall. It'll be easy"

"Good..."

The victory feast was already in full swing when Stannis came down into the Great Hall and was as grand an affair as he had ever seen. Wine was flowing in rivers, tables all but crashing down with food and dance music played loudly and masterfully.  
Intentionally late and hoping not to draw too much attention to himself, Stannis carefully made his way through the crowd of courtiers, who, thankfully, were too busy with music, wine and each other to notice.  
The king was already half drunk and having a grand old time, snogging with two court ladies. Renly and most of the younger courtiers were jumping about the dance floor, caught in the quick and jolly rhythm of a jig. The rest of the Small Council were sat at different tables, engaged in conversation.

All, except Ned Stark. Stannis grinned as he noticed the man standing lonely against a column. Dressed to the nines in grey and white silk and holding a glass of wine in hand, he was no doubt bored and hoping to blend safely into the surroundings. Much like Stannis himself...

"Enjoying yourself, my lord Hand?" – Stannis smiled genially as he came up to his fellow sufferer with a glass of his own.

"Almost as much as you are" – Ned chuckled – "Unfortunately, I wasn't smart enough to be as late"

"Years of experience. You'll get the hang of it" – said Stannis, toasting the Hand.

"I hope not" – Ned replied with a sigh as their glasses clinked – "I have no wish to be at court forever"

"You won't be if you're not careful, Stark" – Stannis said seriously as he sipped his wine – "Especially with your tongue"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you had absolutely no business praising the Targaryen girl today, especially in front of Robert" – Stannis explained reproachfully - "What in the seven hells possessed you to do that?"

"I merely said what I believe to be true" – Ned shrugged his shoulders – "I'm not ashamed of my thoughts and views to have to keep them secret"

Damn his blasted sense of responsibility for the man, Stark was just hopelessly dumb and honest, Stannis hsighed, rolling his eyes.

"Nevertheless you might want to start watching what you say and even what you think. Here, in King's Landing walls don't just have ears. They also have quite a few poisonous barbs, hidden and waiting to fly out at any moment"

"Aye, there's a couple of them aimed at us already" – Ned replied irritably as he looked above Stannis' shoulder.  
Stannis turned around and cursed under his breath as he saw the tall, stately and graceful figure of Cersei Lannister herself floating towards them with an uncommonly gracious smile on her face.

"My – my, look who's decided to grace us with her presence" – Stannis huffed ironically – "When she was absent from court this morning, I was rather hoping our queen had fallen deathly ill"

"No need to be mean, Stannis" – Stark chuckled – "Whatever she may be, she's still our queen. And no, no such luck I'm afraid. She was having something her ladies in waiting called a 'particularly severe migraine', I believe"

"Ah!" – Stannis nodded with a malicious smile.  
Unlike Ned Stark, who was still new at court, he knew that 'a particularly severe migraine' was Cersei's standard term for her displeasure aimed at Robert for doing something that didn't sit too well with her. Something along the lines of visiting her chambers to perform his duties after getting excited with a few other ladies…

"Your grace!" – the men bowed simultaneously as the queen approached their little party.

Garbed in a rich, flowing gown of lysane silk and lannister gold, her thick, long, golden hair flowing freely around her shoulders from an intricate knot at the top of her head, Cersei looked majestically beautiful and treacherously alluring. Even Ned and Stannis had to admit that.

"My lords" – she replied with a slight nod – "I am so pleased to see our illustrious Master of Ships has finally managed to navigate his way to the Great Hall"

"I humbly apologize if my tardiness has caused offence, your grace" – Stannis replied respectfully.

"No need for apologies, my dear brother. I understand how intricate and confusing the corridors of the Red Keep can be. Especially to a man, who is trained to find his way in the middle of nowhere using nothing, but stars and maps and whatever else it is you captains use" – Cersei replied rather spitefully – "But the king has missed you"

"Thank you for your understanding, dearest sister, but I doubt the king is very angry" – Stannis replied with equal spite as he stared pointedly at Robert, whose hands were vigorously exploring the contents of the skirt of yet another lady – "I was so sorry to hear of your migraine this morning. I do so hope you're feeling better?"

"I am, thank you" – Cersei replied coldly – "Oh, but I'm being rude, aren't I? My heartiest congratulations on your victory over the dragon. I really cannot thank you enough for the beautiful and fragrant main décor, Robert was so set on having placed behind the dias"

"Happy to be of service, your grace" – Stannis nodded curtly.

"Shame such a great victory has brought you nothing, though" – the queen continued sweetly – "But then again… It wouldn't be the first time Robert has granted you a pompous, useless title… or rather nickname and at the same time made sure you have no gold to come with it"

"Indeed it wouldn't… However, I'm sure your brother the Kingslayer would agree that sometimes a nickname can be more valuable than gold" – Stannis replied with a devious little smile – "How much do you think ser Jaime would pay me to switch nicknames? Would all the gold ever mined at Casterly Rock be sufficient to clear him of his honorary title, do you think?"

"I have no idea" – Cersei smiled back coldly – "But even now we have quite sufficient for Jaime and the rest of us to ignore it"

"Do you really?" – Stannis chuckled – "I wonder if ser Jaime shares your opinion"

The queen didn't reply. Instead she turned her viper's gaze to Ned Stark, who was obviously very uncomfortable bearing witness to one of the legendary bickerings between the queen and the Master of Ships and didn't know where to look.

"Would you excuse us, my lord Hand?" – Cersei asked sweetly – "There are a few matters I wish to discuss with the Master of Ships privately"

"Yes, of course, your grace" – the Hand replied with a sigh of relief and threw his friend a compassionate and guilty look as he left.

"I am all ears, your grace" – Stannis said curiously, looking down at Cersei, as she remained silent for a moment and eyed him appreciatively from head to toe.

"I must say, you look quite tolerable in garments that suit your rank" – she said almost flirtatiously as she looked up to meet his eyes – "I never understood why you insist on dressing like a ragamuffin"

"Is that the issue you wanted to discuss with me?" – he asked incredulously.

"No" – Cersei snapped, rolling her eyes – "I hear that Robert has commissioned several new ships for the fleet"

"That it true" – Stannis replied rather apprehensively.

"And the grandest one is to be named in honor of his hammer" – the queen continued with cold annoyance and a small nod as though she never expected anything else.

"Yes"

"Don't you think that is insultingly pathetic?" – Cersei huffed indignantly.

"What is?" – Stannis asked confusedly.

"You built a ship in honor of your father, didn't you?"

"Aye"

"And now your brother wants you to build one for his hammer" - Cersei explained irritably - "He values family so low…"

"Ah! Well… The hammer is arguably the best part of Robert, so…" – Stannis replied, with a grin on his face and a shrug of this shoulders - "In truth, I would be happy to build a ship in honor of every part of Robert's armor. And even of the saddle of his horse"

"Would you? Imagine how glorious that would be" – Cersei smiled, genuinely this time – "An entire fleet of galleys with proud and meaningful names like 'King Robert's Breastplate', 'King Robert's Sabaton'…"

"'King Roberts antlers'" – Stannis added with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Yes, I'm sure it will be very amusing for you and your shipwrights" – Cersei said coldly, feeling suddenly disquieted – "But don't you think it would be only right to build a few ships in honor of the royal family as well?"

"It would" – Stannis nodded musingly – "Whoever thought we would ever agree on something…"

"How would you like to build a galley for the queen?" – Cersei asked, as she waved one of the servants to bring wine – "A twin of Robert's flagship"

"Twin?" – Stannis gasped, not quite believing his ears.

Of course the woman never respected or even particularly liked Robert, but did she really have the audacity to ask this?! And did he really have the audacity to say 'yes'?! Stannis felt his stomach jerk as he knew the answer to that question all too well.

"Behind every great man there's a great woman, isn't there?" – the queen replied innocently, taking a beautiful golden cup from the tray and bringing it to her lips.

"Oh, undoubtedly" – Stannis chuckled, lifting the corner of his mouth into half a smile.

"And as the same proverb applies to every couple, it would be only fair to create a duet for the king's father and mother in law. 'Lord Tywin' and 'Lady Joanna'"

"Also twins?"

"Not necessarily. Whatever you think best" – Cersei smiled deviously – "And of course, we mustn't forget the heir"

"Four ships?" – Stannis asked contentedly.

In spite of all the fuss and noise and Cersei's immediate presence, the evening seemed to be getting more enjoyable by the minute.

"Spare no expense. There's enough gold at Casterly Rock for several fleets" – the queen chuckled slyly.

"Aye, but…"

"Half price advance payment"

"Agreed" – Stannis nodded, lifting his cup to toast her. Cersei did the same.

Suddenly a blast of happy shrieks and laughter erupted from the surrounding crowd as several young courtiers with Renly at the lead jumped and danced their way through it, grabbing a hand here and there and pulling more and more people out onto the dance flood.

"When can I see the sketches?" – Cersei asked when the frivolity was far enough away for both of them to relax and take a few sips from their goblets.

"Some the day after tomorrow, some later" – Stannis replied, shaking his head as the cheerful bustle of young men and women smashed into the crowd again.

"Perhaps you'd like to build a galley for lord Renly too?" – Cersei smiled as once more Renly danced past them, snatching a pretty young girl from the circle of friends she was talking to and pushing her out into the prancing crowd, headed for the dance floor.

"As much as I'd like to, I fear the only vessel I will ever build for Renly is an enormous barge, with tents for food and room enough for dancing and musicians" – Stannis huffed ironically.

To his surprise, Cersei laughed.

"Why, Stannis, that's a splendid idea" – suddenly came Renly's boisterous voice as the young rascal appeared before them out of nowhere, panting and red – faced and happy as can be – "I'd love to have one. Just think of it! A ball on the sea, with a splendid view of fireworks above Storm's End"

"Well, you can't have it" – Stannis said strictly.

"Why not?"

"Because Shipbreaker bay didn't get its name for nothing"

"My goodness, brother" – Renly replied cheekily – "I am a grown man and still you try to school and chastise me. You'll do the same even when we're old and grey, I've no doubt."

"You are a boy in a man's breeches" – Stannis grumbled – "Even if you live to be a hundred you'll still remain a boy"

"And you were born an old man" – Renly retorted gaily – "So we have enough between us to always be both young and wise, don't you think?"

"Have you indeed?" – Cersei snorted, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, come on, Stannis" – Renly pleaded, taking no notice of the queen's snide comment – "Build me a barge of beautiful black ebony. With little golden stags dancing of the sides and tents and room and everything you said. I swear on my entire wardrobe, I'll never sail it on Shipbreaker bay"

"A holy oath indeed!" – Stannis replied with a reluctant smile – "What will you do with it then? Take it to Highgarden, give it to ser Loras Tyrell so the two of you can sail up and down the Mander and have some fun and mischief on the river?"

"Why not?" – Renly yelped happily.

"Why not? Why not…" – Stannis shrugged his shoulders

"When can I have it?" – Renly asked excitedly.

"Roughly, six months. But not before you've paid me…" – Stannis paused and increased the number he first estimated by half and then increased that number by a half as well – "Two hundred and ten thousand golden dragons"

"Two hundred and ten thousand?!" – Renly gasped in shock – "That's highway robbery!"

"Take it or leave it" – Stannis replied, spreading his hands.

"But Stannis, I really can't spare that kind of money" – Renly said, immediately becoming serious – "With all the taxes and wages I've already paid this year and Robert's new trade schemes, my yearly budget is now about two million and…"

"What?! The year is only half gone!" – almost cried Stannis as it was his turn to be shocked – "Renly… even with all the extra taxes, numerous bad harvests your present budget should be no less than five million. What in the Seven Hells have you done with the money?"

"Well… I may have had a few extra expenses this year" – Renly replied meekly, starting to feel like a scolded child.

"A few?!" – Stannis hissed angrily as he could literally feel his blood boiling up with shock and disbelief.

"Well… alright…quite a few extra expenses… So probably no barge this year" – Renly sighed disappointedly – "But you will draw a picture or whatever it is called of it soon, won't you?"

"Of course he will" – Cersei said unctuously before Stannis could even open his mouth.

"Oh, thank you, your grace! You really are the sweetest queen that ever lived" - Renly shouted happily, dancing away as quickly as he could before his brother had a chance to react.

Stannis sighed deeply and gulped down the rest of his wine, hoping to goodness it would cool down his burning blood as soon as possible.  
How bad were the finances of the Stormlands really, he wondered angrily, as Cersei graciously waved for more wine. Was Renly already ruining himself as quickly as Robert was? What on earth could he have spent that kind of money on?  
Could it possibly be preparation for war, Stannis thought worriedly, his heart and mind racing with rage and grievous suppositions. Was his little brother in league with the Tyrells and Littlefinger too? Very likely so…

"I wonder how you can be so calm when your brother wastes away what rightly belonges to you" – suddenly came Cersei's oily voice – "Hard they call you and hard you are"

"No harder than I have to be to do my duty" – Stannis replied absently, taking a sip from his new cup as yet another piece of the conspiracy puzzle fell into place in his mind.  
But if Renly was in league with the Tyrells, he wondered, what's his reward? Could it be possible that his brother was actually planning to be king and take the Tyrell girl as his queen?!  
Stannis held back a gasp as the chain of evidence almost completed itself. So, it was both Robert and the Lannisters to be taken out of the picture after all…

"Indeed… Nothing like duty to make a man hard" – Cersei purred deviously – "I daresay, not even Robert could give that wife of yours a second glance, never mind a child…"

"Have I said something to upset you?" - she smiled charmingly as Stannis choked on his wine – "I wonder… did my words shock you? Or is it true that you haven't touched that wife of your in years? Or both?"

"I'd say both" – Cersei chuckled as Stannis choked on the wine again.

"This is a highly inappropriate conversation, your grace" – he replied finally, wiping his chin with a handkerchief.

"Inappropriate… what a useful word…" – Cersei said cryptically.

"Pardon?"

"Is that why you behave like a mute, cold, slippery fish all the time?" – the queen asked searchingly - "Because it's inappropriate to do otherwise?"

"I'm not entirely sure what you are suggesting, you grace…"- Stannis asked as a cold, eery feeling filled his stomach.

"You're afraid of me, aren't you?" – she purred quietly, slowly moving closer ho him. Close enough to tough his arm.

"Am I?" – Stannis raised his eyebrows, feeling every muscle in his body tense and not liking this at all.

"Of course you are" – Cersei whispered flirtatiously – "In fact…you want to sleep with me. Then you wouldn't be so threatened"

"Strange… " – Stannis replied with fake reflectiveness, his heart pounding out of his chest as he looked deep into two luscious gold – green eyes, staring intently into his own – "I've never even thought about it. But you clearly have"

For a moment that seemed to Stannis like eternity, they remained still and silent, holding each other's gaze. He smiled as he watched the seductive glow disappear from the queen's eyes, making way for icy, barbed indifference.

"I'd like those sketches no later than the day after tomorrow" – Cersei finally said, removing her hand from his arm.

Stannis exhaled with relief and downed his cup of wine as he watched her turn around and float away gracefully.

"What in the seven hells just happened here?!" - he asked himself aloud, too shocked to really care about keeping his voice down.

"That wasn't very nice, you know"

Stannis almost jumped as, all of a sudden, Renly's cheeky voice returned to the scene. This time miraculously serious.

"I'm not a very nice person" – Stannis shrugged his shoulders, trying his best to ignore Renly and compose himself after Cersei's incredulous behavior.

"She'll never forgive you for that one" – Renly told him apprehensively as he took his brother's empty cup and handed him another one.

"No matter" – Stannis replied dismissively – "We've said worse things to each other"

"Not really…"

"What?"

"You do know, you've just rejected her" – Renly asked quietly, looking slightly worried.

"What in the seven hells are you on about?" – Stannis huffed incredulously.

"You really are as dumb and unfeeling as a block of wood" – Renly sighed, rolling his eyes – "You know, sometimes I wish you two'd just do it. If nothing else, it would save the rest of us from your constant bickering"

"You're drunk!" – Stannis snapped irritably.

"Not nearly drunk enough" – Renly giggled, lifting his glass – "You should get drunk too, it'll do you good. Might even make you brave enough to finally lift some skirt. Cersei's preferably"

"Shut up!" – hissed Stannis – "And for fuck's sake, go back to your dancing partner"

"Oh, come on!" – Renly giggled mischievously – "You and I both know you've been wet dreaming about her for years"

"I have not!"

"Liar" – grinned Renly – "Anyways… Hard as it is to believe, I'm pretty sure she sometimes wet dreams about you too"

"Don't be ridiculous, Renly" – Stannis snorted – "Even if she was trying to seduce me, there has to be an ulterior motive"

And perhaps there was, Stannis thought slyly. If the Lannisters are already aware of the Tyrell plot, Cersei might just be trying to lure me to their side… But… No… That was unlikely. Tywin would never act from a reactive position if he could help it. If he knew of the conspiracy, his men would be poisoning Tyrell's wine and slitting Littlefinger's throat in a dark corner of his brothel. And there is no way Cersei could ever keep such a plot secret from her father, if she knew it…This must be something else…

"Oh, come on. You're not that ugly" – he heard his little brother tease.

"Renly, it is plain to the meanest intelligence that the only person Cersei Lannister wet dreams about is Cersei Lannister. Or, at the very least, another Lannister" – Stannis said, rather reluctant to continue, but not yet ready to walk away in case he needed to ask Renly a few evasive, testing questions.

"Exactly!" – Renly exclaimed triumphantly.

"What?"

"Everyone knows she's sleeping with her brother. Apart from Robert and Ned Stark, that is…Maybe she wants to sleep with her father as well"

"You're making me nauseous" – Stannis said disgustedly.

"You've got to admit you two are alike. Very much so. All baldheaded, boring and brilliant" – Renly giggled – "Or… all smart, strong and silent, if it makes you feel better"

"It doesn't" – Stannis snapped, secretly pleased with the comparison to his old idol.

"Actually…you might even pass for her brother" – Renly continued cheekily – "You grew up at court, so Tywin Lannister spent more time with you than he ever did with his own children. Some might say that you're more of a son to him than any of the actual Lannisters since he practically raised you. Tywin even knighted you, didn't he?"

"He did" – Stannis admitted musingly, starting to realize that Renly's theory might not be all that ridiculous after all.

"Goodness me, no wonder she wants you!"

"For a man who's only interested in the company of men, you're remarkably shrewd when it comes to women" – Stannis huffed sarcastically.

"I'm an expert on all things beautiful" – Renly replied with a smug smile – "And you can't deny Cersei is beautiful"

"Aye, but… perhaps not as beautiful as someone else" – Stannis replied almost triumphantly as suddenly he saw the last piece of the puzzle, the final missing link of his chain of thought dance right in front of him in the shape of a young girl with a lovely face, doe - like eyes and thick chestnut hair falling below her waist. There she was, floating gracefully through the room on the arm of her brother. The person, who finally completed the intrigue…

"Who?" – Renly asked, looking around curiously – "Oh, that's lady Margaery Tyrell"

"I guessed it was. She looks quite like her brother. But I had no idea the lord Tyrell was planning to bring her to court this year" – Stannis said innocently.

"He wasn't" – Renly replied ingenuously – "But she and Loras insisted on it, so he and I brought her with us when we came back from Highgarden yesterday"

"I see…" – Stannis sighed heavily.

"It's always a pleasure seeing a new face at court, especially one as pretty as Margaery's, don't you think?" – Renly asked with a smile.

So, his little brother was a main force among the guilty parties after all. And Stannis' bet was that the conspirators would first try to remove Cersei as queen and fill her place with Margaery. Else, why would Renly and Loras bother with bringing Margaery to court…  
How could they do it? By exposing Cersei's little secret of her children's true parentage. And what if they are unsuccessful? Then they replace the king as well.  
But in that case Stannis' own role in the scheme was depressingly clear. He was one of the main targets to be removed from the board as soon as possible. Even if Mace and Renly did have the stupidity to think Stannis would accept him as his liege, Littlefinger was way smarter than that.

Is that why Renly so gallantly gave me this cup just now? Is there poison in this wine, Stannis thought grievously. The Game of Thrones knew no bold ties or affection, he'd always known that much… But it still hurt to think that little Renly had agreed or to end his life or even taken it upon himself to do it…

"Do you like her?" – Renly asked genially.

"No" – Stannis answered sadly.

"I can see that" – Renly chuckled teasingly, the chance in his brother's mood entirely lost on him – "For a man who's interested in neither men nor women, you've got a rather wandering eye, wouldn't you say, brother?"

"A little eyeball liberty may sometimes be acceptable" – Stannis chuckled rather bitterly, waving to the nearby servant to take away his cup.  
Even if there was nothing more than wine in it, daring to finding out was a risk he could not afford. From this moment, the target on his back would only grow bigger and court would soon get very hot for him, that much was obvious.

"'Eyeball liberty'?!" – Renly laughed.

"Nautical term"

"You dirty old sailor!" – Renly replied, taking a new cup for himself from the servant and toasting his brother – "I wonder… How far does your nautical liberty actually go?"

"What do you mean?" – Stannis asked apprehensively.

"Well… you know what they say about sailors…" – Renly said cautiously, but with a cheeky gleam in his eye – "You do spend a lot of time with that mongrel so - called best friend of yours. And you admire his wife well enough to name a vessel in her honor. 'Lady Marya', is it?"

Stannis' blood flared up with rage and he did his best to restrain himself and not punch Renly in the face. He did admire Marya, very much. Liked her even. But it was impossible to even think of…  
And as for Davos and the sailors… Renly was lucky they were in a crowded room, otherwise he'd have shown him what exactly sailors do to men who spread filth about them…

"All right! All right! I'm sorry!" – Renly replied meekly, seeing the anger in this brother's eyes – "It was a silly joke, calm down. I know you too well to even assume anything of that sort"

"When you grow up, you'll find that there are certain things that are beyond taboo, you filthy – minded little bastard!" – Stannis hissed angrily.

"Yes, well… since I'm still a sweet and amiable child, would you like me to introduce you to the lady Margaery?" – his little brother asked innocently.

"No!"

"Why not? If you're bored with wet – dreaming about Cersei, a new face might feel refreshing"

With that Renly shoved his cut into Stannis' hands and headed towards the dance floor.

Yes, go, boy… Stannis thought bitterly, as he watched the young man slickly make his way through the forever busy crowd. Go, fetch your little prize. But I'm afraid I will not let you play these games for long... The greatest lesson I have ever learned from life and Tywin Lannister is that to win you have to act and not react. It is the main principle I live by…

Perhaps the time has truly come for him to correct old mistakes and pay back debts long overdue, Stannis mused as he watched young lady Margaery float towards him gracefully, on Renly's arm. Time to do what he should've done for Rhaegar seventeen years ago, what they'd been planning for years before the Rebellion, even before Harrenhal … To help the rightful ruler claim the Iron Throne and take his place as Hand.

"My lady, I have the honor to introduce my brother, lord Stannis Baratheon, Master of Ships and lord of Dragonstone" – Renly said gallantly as he and his charming partner finally made their way to Stannis – "Stannis, this is the lady Margaery. Daughter of lord Mace Tyrell and the most beautiful woman in the Reach"

"I am honored to meet you, lord Stannis" – the girl said as she curtseyed politely, a charming smile gracing her exquisite features – "I've heard nothing but the highest praise of you from my father and my uncle Redwyne"

"Charmed" – Stannis replied a curt bow.

Let the Game go on and may the best man win, Stannis thought as the corners of his lips curled up into a cold and devious little smile. A smile that, for some strange reason Renly couldn't fathom, made him feel uneasy…


End file.
